


A Brief Progression of Fate

by NikkiKelly



Series: The Hurts Trilogy [2]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: MyOChavetakenoverthisseries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 113,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiKelly/pseuds/NikkiKelly
Summary: This is the tale of the seven lost years in the middle of Hurts Like Hell. It takes place between the end of Chapter 11 to the beginning of Chapter 13.





	1. Prologue: Daddy Sing Me A Song

“Pssstttt…. Daddy…” A soft voice hissed in the darkness and one of the two figures bundled in bed, shifted and mumbled in their sleep. The tiny, golden-headed girl frowned in the darkness and gave a frustrated huff as she shuffled her stocking covered feet across the floor to the side of the bed where she knew her father was sleeping. Hugging the tattered teddy bear that she held in the crook of one arm, she stood, tip-toed, at the edge of the bed.

“Daddy.” She whispered a little louder this time.

One of the bundled figures on the bed gave the other a sharp poke and a muffled feminine voice said. “It’s your turn.”

All she received was a low grumble in reply and the father rolled over, unfortunately facing where his daughter was waiting with a sharp frown. The little girl leaned in close to his face and gave him her fiercest stare. Her thumb wavered over her lips for a mere moment, before the sticky fingers moved on to a new goal.

“Daddy… Daddy… Daddy!” Small fingers pried one of his sharp blue eyes open. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” He replied, rather drolly, and yawned at the tiny child before him. “Why are you awake?”

“I can’t sleep… Sing me a song, please.” She gave him her sweetest smile.

“A song?” He groaned and moved to pull the covers over his head. “It’s in the middle of the night, sweetheart, and daddy had a really long day-“

“Please!” She begged.

His awakened wife peeked over his shoulder with a sleepy smile and kissed his shoulder blade. “One song won’t kill you.”

“Yeah!” The girl nodded, enthusiastically.

“I suppose not…” He sighed and the little girl squealed with joy, climbing over her father to snuggle under the blankets between the pair. He wrapped one arm around her and mumbled, sleepily. ”What song do you want to hear, love?”

“One that tells a story…” The little girl giggled, happily, and wiggled her toes as her mother pressed a kiss against her head. “The one that sings the Lost Years fairytale! Sing me that one!”

The father groaned. “That’ll take all bloo-“

“Honey...” His wife gave him a gentle smile. “Just sing it for her. We’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t.”

He gave her a foul look and she shrugged.

“Besides, she’ll probably fall asleep before the end, anyways.” The wife smiled again and snuggled down next to her daughter to hear the tale. “Do you need me to fetch the pitch whistle?”

He grumbled something about ungrateful harpies and sighed. “All right then… Here we go…”

He took a deep breath and began to sing a fairytale…


	2. Once Upon A Time Redux

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Some people hear their own inner voices with great clearness, and they live by what they hear. Such people become crazy, or they become legends.” ~~ One Stab- Legends of the Fall

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* * *

He had been cursed.

It was strange. He had never been cursed before. Hexed and jinxed, yes… Be-spelled and confounded, okay… He had even been enchanted once by a half-ways decent sorceress, but he had never been cursed. Never had such a dark and horrid magic been cast on him. He could feel it, lurking, deep within his chest and haunting his every moment. The curse was intended to enslave him to the Queen of Air and Darkness at his weakest moment and it waited, deep inside. So, they had tortured him for days on end. They used cold iron and fire to hurt him. Then they drank his blood and licked from his wounds to madden him, but he refused to even mutter the words. Those simple words the Dark Queen needed for him to speak to complete her ancient curse. The words to bind him. The words to break him.

One of his bright eyes blinked and the Goblin Prince moaned in pain. His blood had made a muddy puddle upon the floor of his dark cell that threatened to drown him if he did not move. Of course, drowning is his own blood was no options that Jaron entertained, so he forced himself into movement. With a wince, he pulled his mangled body towards the wall and managed to drag himself into a semi-sitting position. Leaning his back against the stone wall, he wrapped one fist around the broken arrow shaft still protruding from his left shoulder, and jerked it free with a pained grunt. The arrow tumbled from his fingers and he clapped a hand over the wound, trying to stem the blood flow.

The door to his cell swung open, bathing him in harsh light. Jaron stiffened, preparing himself for a blow that never came. Instead, in a rustle of wine colored silk and feathers, Morgan le Fey came to his side, moving his hand from his shoulder so she could tend the fresh wound.

“You are a stubborn fool, Jaron.” Morgan chastised in a low voice.

“I am Sindhe.” He replied, dully.

“You will be a dead Sindhe!” She hissed. “She will kill you before all is said and done!”

Jaron spat out a mouthful of blood and spit to his left and shrugged. “Then so be it.”

“You will die here.” Morgan scoffed. “And all for a mortal! You forget that a mortal’s life burns very brightly and very quickly!”

“That is why the Fae love them so.”

“That is why you were so loved by the Fae!” Morgan said, truthfully, and paused in cleaning his wound. “It may please you to know that she got away, then…”

Jaron gave a weak smile. “Good. At least one good deed will come of this…”

Morgan glanced towards the door of the cell and then leaned in low to whisper in his ear. “It may also please you to know that she is not quite mortal anymore.”

Jaron’s bright eyes widened.

* * *

For the first three days after the banishment of Prince Jaron, the Dowager Goblin Queen locked herself in her quarters in Merial and did nothing but cry. On the third day, she mustered the last of her strengths and managed to dress herself. Still, she only stayed in her room and stared out at the Enchanted Wood, listening to the fairies sing their songs of mourning. She spoke to no one for a week. 

Meanwhile, Jorall seemed to take his only child’s banishment rather well, considering that he only tried to don his battle armor and ride to Magesblood twice that first unholy week. It took more than a little coaxing to convince Jorall to put down his weapons and return to his wife’s side. Jorall spoke to few, but the talks usually ended in his roars of outrage over the loss of his son. Still, Queen Jiera spoke to no one, and wasted away in her quarters until the week’s end. It was then, at a little before noon that she rose, suddenly, from her chair and strode from her room as if on a mission. Her fierce face was enough to cause the courtiers give her a wide berth when they saw her marching down the massive halls of Merial. Throwing open the doors to Oberon’s study, she startled both he and Jareth, who were in the midst of discussing Jaron’s current predicament. Both men looked up in shock at her entrance and rose, quickly, to greet her. 

“Mother.” Jareth gasped.

“Jiera!” Oberon rushed around his desk to her. “We have-“

She evaded his arms and replied in a clipped tone. “Taken my youngest from me, but there is little that you can do about that is there?”

Jareth came to take her into his arms and she held out one hand to stop him as well. His face fell. “Mother, I-“

“As I understand it, young Alyxandrea has disappeared as well, yes?” Jiera asked, curtly, as she crossed to the window to stare out over the glistening sea.

Oberon nodded, glumly. “The very same night.”

Jiera’s face softened and she whispered. “That’s a good girl…”

“Roland helped her.” Oberon added. “He befuddled Jorall-“

“Only after Jorall had performed a highly unsanctioned christening upon the mortal. I know the tale.” Jiera turned back to the two men, her mismatched eyes blazing. “Are you going to punish my husband and nephew with the same _leniency_ that you’ve shown my youngest son?”

“Mother, we would neve-“ Jareth started.

She held up one hand to silence him. “I am invoking an ancient law. Since you have taken my youngest son from me and my secondary heir, I demand that I am granted one request to rectify my loss. An eye for an eye, if you will.”

Oberon nodded, solemnly, as he sat, heavily, at his desk. “Yes, that is a very ancient law, my dear. You may ask me for anything you could ever want and if it is within my power then I shall grant it. What is your desire?”

“I wish for Sarah Williams to stay in the Underground. Do not try to send her back.” Jiera ordered. “Though he is _undeserving_, I wish happiness for the one son that I have left.”

“You speak as if Jaron is dead, mother!” Jareth spat out. “As if he is already gone beyond our reaches.”

“He might as well be while he’s in that foul creature’s clutches!” Jiera snapped. “I wish for Sarah to stay. She could teach you compassion, yet, Goblin King!”

In a whirl of lace skirts, Jiera left the two men to their thoughts. Striding down the hall, she nearly ran into Sarah. Grabbing the girl by the shoulders, she drew her in for a hard hug. Sarah was shocked, but hugged the Queen back.

“I have ordered that they make you stay.” Jiera hissed above her broken sobs. “They can not make you leave now, my dear!”

She released the girl and headed for her quarters, leaving a befuddled Sarah in the hall. Blinking, Sarah, watched her leave, wondering what had taken place.

* * *

“Land ahoy!!!”

Alyx’s head snapped up from the book that she was reading in her small cabin. In a flurry of skirts, she was out the door, and almost ran down a troll crew member who was sweeping the floors. Throwing a quick apology in the bit of broken Trollish that she knew over her shoulder, she thundered on. Racing for the deck of the ship, her fingers clenched the railing until her knuckles turned white. She stared out across the Emerald Sea at the thin strip of land in the distance. Nevan was close. She could see the sandy beaches framed by thick, green woods. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how far away she was from everything she had known and loved.

Even the two weeks aboard this ship had not eased the sharp pains of knowing that it was likely that she would never see any of her friends again. Roland had boarded her on the ship under a false name and with a false agenda. Belua Smythe was her alias and the story was that she was a young Fae traveling to Nevan to meet family in the port of Lir. Numbly, she accepted the disguise and acted the part the best she could. Even so, she was still crying herself to sleep every night and sobbing Jaron’s name into her pillows until dawn.

The salty sea wind whipped her simple blue dress around her and many a crew member stopped to stare at her beauty, before the Captain Bersh caught them. Captain Bersh was a tall burly Fae man with wild dark hair and a long, braided beard. He squared his fanciest bicorne hat upon his head and drew his sword. Several of his crew members were thumped upon the skull with the hilt of his sword to stop their gawking at what he was after for him self. Grinning as he sheathed his blade, he approached the quiet girl that had booked passage on his ship in Merial under very odd circumstances.

The Captain came to stand beside her and purred. “Going to Nevan for business or pleasure, darlin’?”

She stiffened and upon realizing who it was, she answered, curtly. “Neither.”

He laughed. “Marriage is it then? Yer family go an’ marry ya off to an islander, ay?”

“Something like that.”

“’Tis a docking fee, ya know. Twenty gold pieces or-“ He looked her up and down, appreciatively, with his snaggle-toothed grin. “Whatever equals ‘bout the same.”

Alyx set her jaw and strode away from his booming laugh. Going back to her cabin, she locked the door behind her and leaned her back against it. She clenched her fists in outrage, her nails leaving little crescent shapes in her palms. The very nerve of that bastard to try and take advantage of her like that! She reminded herself of rule number two of the Underground; trust no one. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her of rule number one: And nothing is as it seems. She scowled and began to pack her bag. Her hands roved over the glass slippers, admiring them as they sparkled in the light.

“Adaptable magic…” Alyx bit her lip and kicked off her own shoes. She slipped her feet inside the slippers and closed her eyes.

The ship docked at the port of Lir at the Southern tip of Nevan Island. As the passengers began to unload, Bersh went looking for the girl who owed him a docking fee. He chuckled to himself as he twirled his key ring around his gnarled fingers. The lass would be a nice tumble. That was for sure. Suddenly, a small form collided with him. Reaching out to grab them by the shoulders, he saw it was only a young Elfish boy in drab, earth-colored clothes. The child’s wide blue eyes looked up to him through thick curls of black hair, kept under an oversized black hat. The lad also had a small bag slung over one shoulder and dirt smudges on his cheeks.

“What are ya doing down here, brat? The passengers are unloading.” The Captain frowned.

“Me mum left her favorite dress.” The child explained his eyes wide and fearful. “I-I came back for it.”

“Get on with ya, swab, before I ‘ave ya kissin’ the gunner’s daughter!”

The boy nodded and raced up the steps, his shiny boots thudding on each step. The Captain spat on the boy’s path and went back to finding the girl. He came to her door and knocked, hard.

“Ahoy, missy. We’re docked and if ya be wantin’ to leave my ship, then ya need to be payin’ yer dues…” He frowned when the little chit refused to answer him from within the cabin. “Now that’s no way to be, miss. “Tis only a little tumble under yer skirts I’m after, not yer bloody heart!”

The girl remained silent.

He snarled. “Now see here, missy. I gets me dues and you owes me! Ya open this door, or I’ll tear it down me self!”

Still she did not speak.

“Here I come then!” He put his shoulder into the door, expecting the frightened girl to have made a barricade against him. He flew into the room, easily, and against the bed on the far wall. He looked around, wildly, at the empty cabin and realization struck him.

He growled. “The boy.”

With a roar, he tore from the room, and to the deck of his ship. He scanned the crowd, madly, searching for either one of the little chit’s disguises. He heard a sharp whistle and turned around. There, sailing away from Nevan, he saw a rather beautiful bit of ship, her white sails unfurled to catch the strong southern winds. The girl was in one of the rowboats, still dressed in her elfish guise. She gave him a wave and he laughed, heartily.

“Got one over me eyes, lass, but you’ll not get another. Picked the wrong ship to board, you did. Captain Squall runs that ship… That _pirate_ ship.” He hissed making a sign to ward off the evil eye and spat upon the deck. Turning, he went back to his duties and tried to forget the little chit that outwitted him.

* * *

Sarah wanted to scream.

Her brief time staying in Merial with the Golden Court had done a number on her nerves. Besides Jaron’s banishment and Alyx’s sudden disappearance, she was _constantly_ nagged by every courtier that could snag her ear for more than five minutes. Every single one of the ninnies wanted to know the most intimate details of Jaron’s debauchery with the Girl Who Wished Herself Away as well as any news on his subsequent banishment. Sarah did her best to hold her tongue and avoid such gossips, but it was hard for her to avoid the drama while staying at the heart of the Court. So, she started spending much of her free time in Alyx’s forgotten room. They never thought to look for her there and Oberon had ordered the room off-limits to all but the royal family.

At the moment, she was hiding in such room’s bathroom. She loved the beauty and the solitude of the forest bathroom. The room and changed to fit her mood to a sunny glen with wild roses in full bloom all around. She had curled up in the empty tub, peering out the open window at the sea rolling against the rocks. In blessed solitude, she watched the merrows, roanes, and selkie bask and play in the golden sunlight. She envied them for their freedom. While here in the midst of the Seelie Court, she was forced to watch every move she made. Sighing, she averted her gaze from the frolicking sea-folk as she rested her head on the window sill. Glancing down below, she saw a small tree that had just begun to sprout outside and under the window. Beside it rested the rotted core of an apple, decomposing in the sun’s harsh rays. Worms danced in and out through the browned apple flesh and a steady line of ants were handling the rest. Sarah’s green eyes moved back to the small tree and she reached down for the plant, wishing to touch its tiny leaves.

“What in the name of Whuppity Stoorie do you think you are doing?”

Spinning around, she saw Jareth leaning against the doorway of the bathroom with a puzzled look upon his face.

He frowned. “I’ve been looking for you for the past two hours and, finally, I find you, here, escaping out the window?”

“I wasn’t escaping.” She frowned back. “I was hiding out from all the courtiers.”

“Oh?” Jareth’s eyebrow quirked in interest. “Do tell how one accomplishes that by hanging, half-assed, out the window?”

“They were annoying me.” She replied with a disgusted look on her face. “It’s all ’Jaron this’ or ‘Alyx that’. They assume I know all the dirty details and will be willing to share. If it’s not that, then they’re asking weird questions about you and me that I don’t feel right trying to answer. So I decided to drop off their radar.”

“Did you?” He seemed amused.

“I did.” Sarah huffed. “I figured the one place that they aren’t allowed to rummage around in is here, so I came here.”

He came to sit on the edge of the tub and smirked. “Good move.”

“Checkmate.” She retorted and peered back out the window at the tiny tree. “Did you know that there is a tree growing here in the sand?”

“A tree?” Jareth was at her side in an instant and peering out the window. “Where?”

“There.” She pointed downwards to the young sapling beside the rotted apple.

“It’s a peach tree.” Jareth said, in awe.

“Peaches?” Sarah frowned. “On a beach?”

“It’s an enchanted peach tree. There are some in my private gardens back home…” Jareth replied, awestruck and reached to touch one tiny green leaf. “The apple seeds refused to grow.”

“Huh?” Sarah asked, confused.

He gestured to the rotten apple at the base of the peach sapling. “_That_ was _darkly_ enchanted at one time. Possibly poisoned. The peach pit that the peach tree grew from was enchanted as well, but with good magic.”

“So what’s it doing here?”

“This _was_ my brother’s room before Alyx’s arrival.” Jareth reminded her. “He is a bit of a slob.”

“Yeah, but maybe your brother had Alyx eating enchanted peaches in here.”  
“Good point.” Jareth admitted and leaned back inside the window. “You know, I did not think it was remotely possible, but I miss him. Grandfather has rescinded the banishment, but we still are still trying to find a way to bring Jaron home, but with little success. Mab got to him to damn soon… This is entirely my fault!” Jareth blurted out, furious with himself. “If I had only listened to him!”

“Lesson learned, right?” Sarah replied with a weak smile. “I kinda went through the same thing when I wished Toby away.”

Jareth looked up to her, sharply, as he realized their newfound connection. Both had wished away their younger siblings in a fit of stupidity and lived to regret it. “Yes… Lesson, _harshly,_ learned.”

“Good! That’s the first step!” Sarah brightened and gave him a smile. “We’ll bring Jaron home… I know it.”

“This is not something that can be done in a matter of days, precious. Such a fragile political matter could take years. I did not know you intended on staying here that long…” Jareth replied, truthfully.

Sarah was shocked for a moment and blushed. “I was hoping that when you asked to ‘court’ me that it consisted of something a little more long term than one date, Jareth. Especially when you named me your future Queen in front of the entire Underground.”

Jareth’s eyes widened as he realized he had grossly misinterpreted his mortal’s feelings and he replied. “I did.”

Sarah gave him a warm smile and reached out to take his hand in hers. “Good.”

“Yes.”

“Peaceful here, huh?” She cocked her head and wrinkled her nose.

“It was a good idea… I am jealous that I did not think of it before.” Jareth seemed contented as he traced patterns over her knuckles with his thumb. He gave her a sly smile. “We are alone for once.”

“I noticed.” Sarah smirked. “Nice, huh?”

“I do rather enjoy it.” Jareth admitted. “Although, it is not the-“

Realizing that he was still worried about her reputation in the Court, she grasped his hand tightly. “Look what reason has done to our friends, Jareth. Perhaps reason is not the best solution here.”

“Agreed.” Jareth replied and rose, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. “The Court be damned. Let’s return to my Labyrinth tonight. Let me attempt to woo you… Properly.”

“I’m down.” Sarah replied, climbing, quickly, from the tub. “Let me go pack my stuff and I’ll be ready to leave.”

Laughing, Jareth climbed from the tub and stopped her at the door way, cradling her chin in his hand. “Sarah, love, forget the packing.”

The wind whispered of magic and the bathroom was empty.

* * *

Alyx had been in a panic after leaving Bersh’s ship. She looked around, wildly, for any escape. She knew that Captain Bersh was docked in Lir for a fortnight and would no doubt try to track her down. Then she saw a beautiful ship with the name, Merrow Wind, painted upon one side as the boat was leaving the port. She could both hide from the Captain and the Seelie Court by leaving Nevan as soon as she arrived. There would be no trail for them to follow. She raced along the dock and leapt towards the rowboat hanging from the side of the leaving ship. The wind was knocked from her as she hit, middle first, on the side of the rowboat. Grabbing at the ropes attached to the boat, she was able to haul herself aboard as she gasped for breath. Turning back, she saw Captain Bersh rage onto his deck, scanning the docks for her. She mustered the air for a shrill whistle and when he turned, she caught his eye. She waved as her new ride sailed into the distance.

Alyx was proud of her escape plan… At first. That was until she realized that she had no clue where this ship was headed. She also realized she had no clue if these were Unseelie or Seelie that ran this ship. Hiding herself under the tarps, she curled into a small ball. With a little luck, she would not end up back in Merial and could hide until the next port, where she could then disappear.

Lady luck wasn’t with her.

Early the next morning, the tarp was ripped from above her and she was blinded by the sharp sunlight. She put a hand up to cover her eyes and was hauled onto the ship’s deck, roughly. She landed in a heap on the deck with a small cry of pain at her still sore ribs.

“Aho? What’s this? A stow-away?” The crew member grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, dragging her to her feet. “Get up, ya scurvy d-“

He froze when he realized that she was not some young boy who had stowed away on a ship for an adventure, but instead a frightened young woman. Alyx stared at the Genki elf before her and he stared back at her, blinking his dark eyes in alarm. He was about her height with a wiry build and pale sun bleached hair. His sun-kissed skin was covered in scars and strange tattoos.

His scarred face stretched into a worried frown and he called out. “Cap’n!”

Captain Morven Squall looked up from his charts with a frown at the wavering voice of his steward. His blue eyes glinted in the sunlight and he strode towards the side of the ship, casually, hooking one thumb in his belt loop.

“’Ho, Mr. Krollin? What’s the trouble now?” Morven asked as he approached the Elfish steward and the struggling figure in his arms. “Another stow-away, is it?”

Krollin turned to him, his face pale, and whispered. “’Tis a woman, Cap’n.”

Morven’s eyes widened and Alyx looked up at him through her tangled locks of hair. His face fell and he groaned. “Oh, bloody, _bloody_ hell.” 

“Le-“ Alyx started and Krollin clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her.

“Hush yer trap and hide that damned hair, lass.” Morven hissed, picking up her hat, and shoving it on her head, hard. “_Quick like_.”

Krollin released her and she obeyed, tucking her hair under the hat before any of the other crew members got curious. Morven grabbed her arm and began to drag her towards his quarters. The three entered and he locked the door behind them. He spun to stare at Alyx, slamming his palms upon the desk.

“How the bloody hell did you get on my ship?” Morven asked, fiercely. He was rather surprised when she didn’t flinch.

Alyx stared at the captain, blankly. Were all the Fae men in this realm so devastatingly handsome? She studied the man before her, carefully. Morven was a very tall and handsome Fae with shoulder-length blond hair that he wore underneath a dingy red bandana and tied back from his sharp face with a thin strap of leather. He wore three gold hoops in his left ear and had a multitude of charms and chains around his bared neck. A loose fitting white shirt covered by a dark red vest adorned his study torso and were tucked into a pair of patched trousers. He rubbed at the stubble on his face and then placed his hands upon his narrow hips.

“Well?” He asked, obviously irritated at her.

“I was trying to hide.” She confessed as Krollin sat her down in a chair. “The captain of the ship I was on was tr-“

“No.” Morven held up a hand to silence her. “How did you get on _my_ ship?”

“I jumped aboard as it was sailing away from the docks. I jumped in the life-boat and nearly broke my-”

“Why’d ya jump aboard a _pirate_ ship?” Morven asked as he circled her and studied her as much as she had studied him. “Are you lookin’ to get murdered or raped, lass? A pretty gal is merely commissary on a ship such as mine.”

She shook her head and argued back. “I didn’t know this was a pirate ship! It was going away from _there_. That’s all I cared about at the time!”

Krollin coughed, rather sheepishly. “Weren’t flying the colors, Cap’n. ‘Twas a Seelie guarded port.”

Alyx nodded, enthusiastically. “Yeah! I didn’t see any pirate flag!”

“Belay that! I outta throw you overboard to the sea serpents, little girl! That’s what we do to stow-aways on my ship!” Morven threatened and paced. He spun around to face her again. “What ship were you on before?”

“The Lady Luck-“

“Bersh then.” Morven smirked. “His infamous docking fee, I suppose?”

She nodded.

Morven stared at her and then gave a groan. “Oh, sink me standing...”

“What should we do, sir?” Krollin asked.

“Throw her overboard.” Morven sat behind his desk, and propped his feet up while lacing his fingers behind his head. “Feed her to the bloody sea serpents, I suppose…”

Krollin grabbed Alyx’s arm and she gasped. “Please! No!“

“Kidding, Krollin…” Morven said, quickly, and studied the girl. “Leave her here. Go see about the mainlines or the backstays or somethin’… I’ll deal with her for now.”

Krollin nodded and left his captain with the girl. The pair stared at one another for a long while, each, assessing the other.

Alyx said, causally. “You can just drop me off at the next port.”

“I think I’ll be the one decidin’ what to do with ya.” Morven drawled and gave her a raised eyebrow. “Why didn’t you want to stay in Lir, lass? Get in some other trouble ‘sides battlin’ with Cap’n Bersch?”

“No. I’m traveling.” Alyx felt okay with this quasi-lie. “I didn’t want to stay there if Bersh was there.”

Morven narrowed his sharp blue eyes. “You are a perfectly horrid liar.”

“Fine. I’m wanted.” Alyx raised her chin, defiantly.

“Oh? Then you’ll not want off in our next port. We are sailin’ for Hawker’s Mooring.”

“What’s a Hawker’s Mooring?” She asked, curiously.

He looked at her like she had sprouted another head. “Yer wanted and you don’t know what Hawker’s Mooring is?

She shook her head.

“Let’s start over, kid.” Morven voice and features softened as he held out his hand for her to shake. “Captain Morven Squall… You are?”

She stared at his hand, making no effort to raise her own. “Alyx.”

“Just Alyx?” He frowned and dropped his hand.

She nodded. “Just Alyx.”

“Okay, you don’t have to tell me a damn thing about yourself, kid, but…” Morven looked her up and down. “Yer mortal… That’s a rarity around these parts indeed.”

Fire flashed in Alyx’s eyes at his comment. “I’ve been christened.”

“Aye, an’ I’m the heir to the Forest Throne.” He retorted with a snort. “My thoughts be that this was a _highly_ unsanctioned christening that was approved by _neither_ Court’s highest dignitaries?”

She nodded, nervously.

“How long ‘til it’s done?”

She winced. “Five years.”

“Well, fuck me with a wooden spoon…” Morven moaned and put his face in his hands. He looked back up to her, curiously. “You’re not wanted for murder, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Where ya headed?”

She shrugged.

“You new here in the Underground then?” Morven asked.

“Somewhat.” Alyx lied. “But I know my way around… Pretty much.”

“I can see that much.” Morven sighed again. “Yer gonna be a pain in my ass, ain’t ya kid?”

“Just drop me off in the next port. I won’t-“

“In Hawker’s Mooring?” Morven barked out a laugh. “Bad idea if you are wanted. Hawker’s Mooring is the biggest marketplace in the Underground. Everyone there is lookin’ to make a quick coin and most have no qualms on how they go about gettin’ it. If you want to hide, it’ll be best to ride it out ‘til we reach the Genkis. It’s a bit better place to hide. Then you can get on a boat and disappear for all I care.”

“Or?”

Morven laced his fingers over his lean stomach as he leaned back and smiled. “Or you can get off in Hawker’s Mooring and get turned in for a reward faster than you can say ‘Happily Ever After’. Savvy?”

Alyx frowned. “How long until we get to The Genki’s?”

“Two months. We’ll ’ave to go the long ways ‘round the backside of Nevan to avoid the Seelie Guard. They’ll be thick this time of year.”

“Two months!” Alyx gasped. “I can’t stay here for two months! What-“

“It’s that or Hawker’s Mooring, kid. If I was you, I’d stay on with us.”

Alyx crossed her arms over her chest and thought for a moment. “Can you guarantee my safety here?”

“Aye.” He held up one hand as if taking an oath. “Me most solemn vow.”

“Okay then… I’ll stay until we get to the Genkis.”

“Good. What can you do?”

She looked puzzled. “Wha-“

“Can you cook?”

“Yes.”

“Can you sew?”

“Yes.”

“Can you clean?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tie a knot?”  
“No.”

“You’ll learn.” Morven replied. “You’ll sign me ship’s articles like any other crewmember and work to pay yer way to the Genkis, agreed?”

She nodded.

“Righty then.. Yer the new cabin boy and I’m putttin’ ya with Lefty in the kitchens.” He stared at her long and tangled hair. “We’ll have to do away with them pretty locks if yer going to hide on this ship, kid.”

Her hands went to the dark tresses. “My hair?”

“Aye. You wanna make it safely to The Genkis or do you want ‘pillaged’ by my crew?” Morven asked, seriously. “I can’t stop ‘em all at once.”

Alyx’s eyes flashed and she held out her hand. “Give me the scissors.” 

* * *

Krollin returned and led Alyx down to the galley after her impromptu haircut. Her once long hair had been hacked off in a choppy cut that made her look like a young Elfish boy and she couldn’t help running one hand through it until Krollin swatted at her to stop. She frowned at his back as they headed down below and to the galley.

“Ahoy, Lefty! I brought you a new cabin boy!” Krollin called out as they descended the steps.

When they got to the bottom, Alyx caught sight of a large man wiping his hands on a stained apron that stretched over his extended belly. Apparently she was wrong about all Fae men being handsome. This one was missing his two front teeth and had a long scar that ran from his forehead to his chin on the right side of his face. To top that off, he was rather… Portly… Okay, a whole lot of portly. The ugly Fae cook spat upon the floor and peered down at Alyx with his good left eye.

He snorted. “He’s a might runty, Krollin.”

“That’s why the Cap’n sent ‘im down here. He can cook.” Krollin said. “Lad stowed away for an adventure, so Cap’n Squall ordered he work his way. He’s with us ‘til we get to the Genkis.”

Lefty snorted again. “He got a name?”

“Enan of Lir. Teach ‘im well, Lefty.” Krollin ordered, harshly.

“I’ll do more than that, by the gods.” Lefty said, eyeing the boy. “He’ll be a new man when he leaves my kitchen.”

“I’ll leave ‘im in yer charge then.” Krollin made to leave, turning once to betraying his guilt for leaving the girl with the fat cook.

Lefty spat upon the floor in Krollin’s path and turned back to the girl. He leaned down to look Alyx in the face. “Mighty runty, you are…”

“What’s being small got to do with it?” Alyx scowled and Lefty brought up a fat fist, catching her aside the head. The force of the blow knocked her to the floor and she nearly sprained her wrist catching herself. Her head throbbed and her ear rang.

“Watch that smart mouth, boy, or I’ll brain you again.” Lefty ordered. He pointed his arm out to the stacks of dirty dishes. “Get to work on them dishes.”

Alyx glared up at him from her position on the floor and Lefty guffawed.

“Keep givin’ me them dirty looks and I’ll blacken both of those eyes as well as box ya. Get to work.”

Alyx watched the fat Fae go topside and turned to the many piles of dishes. Rolling up her sleeves, she began to scrub.

* * *

Krollin knocked on the Captain’s door and entered without waiting for Morven’s response. He slammed his fist down on Morven’s desk and asked. “Are ye totally-stark-raving daft?”

Morven gave him a humoring smile. “Apparently. What have I done this time?”

“That girl! Yer addled if ya think ya can keep her on here. What if the men find out there’s a _woman_ on board?” Krollin asked, heatedly.

“They won’t. We’re getting a new crew in Hawker’s Mooring, anyways.”

“Aye an’ what about _that_ crew? What’ll you say to them about a woman that ain’t the ship whore? Not a one of them’ll like it and she’ll be raped within a fortnight.” Krollin predicted with a sharp nod of his head.

Morven shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“That’s yer excuse for everythin’!” Krollin remarked, snappily. “Furthermore, why did ya send her off to that creep, Lefty? Why not put her to work under me?”

“She’s a girl. She can probably cook ten times better than that swill he tries to pass off as real food.” Morven commented, rubbing his still aching stomach. “That slop he served at supper tasted like an old shoe that was well past its prime.”

Krollin sighed. “And if _he_ finds out she’s a woman?”

“Then we lock her in my quarters for the rest of the voyage and I’ll tell the men that she’s off limits. What’s with all the bloody questions?” Morven asked, becoming frustrated with all the questions his steward threw at him. “_I_ am the captain of this ship, you know!”

“Who is she, Morven? What is her name? She’s mortal… but not.” Krollin seemed very wary as he paced before the desk. “She’s somethin’ different.”

“All I got outta her is that her name’s Alyx and she’s new to these parts. She’s got five years ‘til the magic settles in her.”

“Five years?” Krollin was gape-jawed. “Who the hell fucked up that christenin’? Has to be unsanctioned and highly illegal…”

Morven shrugged. “She’s in a bit of trouble… Apparently. The kid says she’s wanted.”

“For what?”

“It ain’t murder, or so she says. I’m guessin’ that they were tryin’ to marry her off to some twit of a lord or baronet and she ran off instead. Isn’t that what all runaway girls are wanted for nowadays?” Morven asked, as he traced his finger across the map on his desk, tracing their route. “Not like the old days, when ya just ran off to ‘ave an adventure, I’ll tell ya…”

“How did she get here?” Krollin asked.

“Well, that is the damnedest thing.” Morven admitted, a little awestruck himself. “She jumped off the dock and-“

“No. How did she get to the Underground?”

“Oh, I dunno ‘bout that.” Morven frowned a little. “Didn’t ask her.”

“So in other words, you know absolutely nothing ‘bout her.” Krollin rolled his eyes and clasped one hand across his forehead with a disgusted sigh.

“I learned her name.” Morven said, defensively.

“A first name. “Krollin scoffed. “If she ain’t lyin’ to us… Quigli is gonna be pissed when he hears this.”

“Screw Quigli. I’m the captain of this ship, remember?” Morven frowned at his steward. “I make the decisions ‘round here.”

Krollin ignored him and shook his head. “Yer lucky that she seems like a good enough kid, but you know things aren’t always as they seem ‘round here.”

“Just keep an eye out for her.” Morven ordered.

“Aye, I’ll do just that, Cap’n.” Krollin saluted as he spoke, wryly. “You can be sure o’ that.”

* * *

It was late when Alyx had just finished the last of the dirty dishes. Lefty was long gone to gamble with the other crewmen when Krollin came to fetch her. The Genki stepped forward into the lantern light and the shadows made the scars upon his face deepen. He gave her a warm smile and she smiled back, wearily, from the last of her dishes.

“Ready for bed?” He asked as he raised the lantern to study her.

She nodded and rose, rubbing at the crick in her back.

“Follow me.” Krollin led her to his small cabin in the bowels of the ship. “You’ll be bunkin’ with me for the time bein’ for safety reasons. Don’t you worry, cuz I’ll not hurt a hair on your pretty little head. Got me self a daughter.”

“Where is she?” Alyx asked, curiously.

“With her mother and amongst the glittering throng of the Seelie Court. Me wife don’t ‘ave much to do with her ol’ man, what with me bein’ a seafaring soul an’ all. Never divorced me, but took off with our daughter for the Court ages ago.” Krollin admitted to the young girl easily. He had good feelings about her. “Hephzibah’s not talked to me in nigh on a gryphon’s age and I ‘aven’t seen me daughter in even longer.”

“That’s horrible.” Alyx’s thoughts immediately went to the Genki seamstress from Merial. “What is her name? Your daughter?”

“Teutah.” Krollin replied, softly. “She is the light of my life and I miss her everyday.”

The elf grew quiet and Alyx did not press, sensing that he did not want to speak any further on the subject. Even though she wished she could give him good tidings about her seamstress friend, she remained quiet. He swung open the door to the cabin to reveal a small and modest room, furnished with a small cupboard, a dressing screen, and two hammocks hanging in the corners. Underneath one hammock was her bag.

“Not much, but it’ll do while I’m out to sea. Ya can sleep in a hammock, can’t ya?” Krollin asked, gruffly, as he shucked off his jacket.

Alyx nodded, wearily. She climbed into the hammock and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Krollin chuckled and moved to unlace the girl’s boots so she could sleep a little more comfortably. When he pulled one shoe off, he was shocked to find it transform into a tiny glass slipper in his hand. It twinkled in the candle light as he studied it.

“Yer full of surprises, eh lass?” He whispered and took off the other slipper, watching the magic fade her clothing back to an oversized shirt and pair of pants. Krollin threw a thin blanket over the sleeping girl, tucking it around her to ward off the chill of the night. He rested the slippers on her bag and blew out the lantern with his prayers to the Gods.

* * *

As quickly as he could manage it, Roland stole away from Merial and the madness of the Court. He and Trog boarded a ship and traveled for the port of Lir on Nevan Island, the last place they knew Alyx to be headed. They spent weeks searching the entire island for her, but to no avail. The girl had vanished into thin air. Roland supposed that was the best thing until either his family came to their blasted senses or until the girl was entirely Fae. Once the pair surmised that she was nowhere to be found, they holed up in their room in Lir, discussing their next move.

“She’s obviously moved on…” Trog commented as she paced along the windowsill and in the salty sea breeze that drifted through the open window. “She knew that we would follow and who knows who could be followin’ us.”

“There ain’t nobody folllowin’ us, ya silly fairy.” Roland contested from where he lay upon the bed, staring at the ceiling. “’Sides, we stole away from Merial with out anyone knowin’.”

Trog snorted. “That don’t mean nothin’! I wouldn’t be surprised if we see the Seelie Guard show up… Maybe even the Goblin King himself. Stupid twit…”

“Yer bein’ paranoid.” Roland retorted.

“I am no-“ Trog’s speech was cut off by her shrill scream as she dove out of the open window and Roland sat straight up in the bed. A flurry of brown and white feathers lighted into the room in the form of an osprey. There was the brush of magic and Jora stood before them, tiny brown feathers floating about her in the breeze. Her face softened at the sight of them.

“I have been looking all over Lir for the pair of you.” Jora sighed.

“I told you that we were followed!” Trog hissed, picking herself up out of the empty water pitcher on the small desk.

Roland frowned. “What do ya want, cousin?”

Jora’s gave him a pleading look. “Please tell me that you have found Alyx?”

“No.” Roland shook his head, sadly. “She’s long gone and beyond our reach now. The lass is truly on her own.”

Jora’s face fell and she crumpled into a chair at the desk. Trog gave her a searching look and fluttered close to the princess.

“What news from Court, Jora? Has Oberon overturned the banishment yet?” Trog asked. “Does that slime, Ramsden still live?”

“Ramsden is recovering in his father’s home in Bethmoora.” Jora remarked with a sneer. “Grandfather has rescinded the banishment, but he has not claimed that Jaron is not guilty for his crimes. Now they seek Jaron so that a trial may be held.”

Roland snarled. “They know bloody well where his is and what harpy keeps ‘im!”

“Yes, but they must be tactful, Roland. We cannot risk an all out war between the Courts.”

“Jaron would.” Trog snapped.

“Yes and it is that same impulsive nature that got him in this mess in the first place!” Jora replied, rubbing her brow with her fingertips.

“Yer startin’ to sound just like Jareth.” Roland sneered. “If you’ve forgotten, Jaron was _protectin’_ Alyx.”

“You will have trouble getting the rest of the Court to believe that.” Jora remarked, dryly. “Ramsden corroborates Willow’s tale and swears he meant no harm to Alyx.”

“He’s a liar!” Trog snarled.

“Yes, but with Jaron’s reputation with the Court he looks to be the one lying and now that we have lost Alyx… I fear Jaron’s name shall be eternally tarnished.”

Roland rose from the bed and walked to the window. His hands clasped behind his back as he stared out into the busy streets of Lir. “What do we do now, then?”

“I must return to Merial. There have been whispers that Jareth and Sarah have vanished from the Court and we all fear for both my mother and stepfather and their sanities…” Jora replied, sadly. “Mother will not speak to anyone and she wastes away. Jorall is letting the Irish-mortal in him crash to the surface. We have had to stop him from riding to Magesblood to go after Jaron himself twice already.”

“I’m going after him! He’d come for me!” Trog announced and flew towards the window.

“We canna just go after ‘im.” Roland replied, catching her with one broad hand. “We have to find Alyx first… Only she can clear his name and then we can bring him home.”

Trog gave him a rather foul look as he released her and she returned to her perch on the water pitcher.

“Take my advice…” Jora rose from her chair and moved to the window.   
“Whatever you do, stay away from the Court. Every gossip seeks the pair of you.”

With that, Jora leapt through the windows, and Roland watched as her osprey form took to the skies. He turned to Trog, where she sat on the edge of the pitcher, studying him.

“Well?” Roland asked. “Any ideas?”

“I want to go after Jaron.” Trog repeated, stubbornly.

“We canna do that… Not yet…” Roland replied, irritated with the angry sprite. “Let’s go to Tir Asleen for now… Elora will keep us again.”

* * *

Alyx awoke the next morning, before the sun had even risen in the sky. Krollin was shaking her shoulder, gently. Her eyes rolled open and the elf peered down at her in the low, predawn light.

“Wake up, and put on yer shoes.” Krollin ordered, softly. “Lefty’ll be in the kitchen soon an’ he’ll be pissed if yer late.”

Alyx gasped as she realized there were no slippers upon her feet, until she saw them in Krollin’s hands. His dark eyes softened when she seemed afraid.

“All of us pirates have our secrets, an’ I’m not one to tell tales.” Krollin studied the slippers for a moment. “They’ll be good for ya to hide from whatever’s got you runnin’, lass.”

She nodded and accepted the shoes when he held them out to her. “That’s why they were given to me.”

“Good gift.” Krollin gave her a smile and tousled her hair, comfortingly. “Better get a move on then. Lefty’ll be in a mood if yer late.”

The steward left the room and Alyx slid on the shoes, letting their magic hide her as a boy once more. She scrambled out the door and towards the galley, almost falling down the steps. Lefty turned from where he had just began to take out pans to make the breakfast.

“Yer late, runt.”

“Sorry, I-“

Turning swiftly, Lefty thumped her aside the head with the wooden spoon in his hand. “I don’t want to hear yer excuses. Get to peelin’ an’ slicin’ me some taters and onions.”

Alyx went to work quickly, not wishing for the cook to hit her again. As she grabbed a small paring knife from the drawer, she studied the sharp blade. Reacting on instinct, she slipped it into her pocket and grabbed another to work with. She peeled and sliced until, with a grunt Lefty sent her to mixing up a batch of cornbread. He added the potatoes and onions to the concoction he was stirring in his pan over the fire.

He grunted at her after a moment. “I’ll finish that. You get to work on mopping this floor. I want to be able to see me good eye in it.”

She obeyed as he went back to his food, throwing in odd and ends of leftover vegetables that he had lying about. When it began to bubble, he pronounced the breakfast done and moved to take it to where the men were waiting to eat. Alyx moved to follow him, eager for food since she had only had a few pieces of bread the night before when Lefty had ordered her to clean the kitchen. Lefty turned to give her a glare.

“Where do ya think you’re goin, runt?”

“Breakfast.” Alyx replied.

Lefty raised his fist and slapped her across the face, busting open her lip in the process. “Ya’ll eat when I say ya can! Get to cleanin’ that damned kitchen!”

Alyx watched the large man waddle away, loathing him. Her anger rose as she was reminded of her mortal father, left far behind in the Aboveground. She had hated her father for the same reasons that she hated Lefty. She spat out a mouthful of blood into the sink and raised her chin. She would not be hit again. Never again. Turning, she went to back to work and began cleaning up her own blood from the floors. Little did she know that hundreds of miles away, the Goblin Prince was on his knees in a great throne room, cleaning his own blood from the black, marble floors of Taveres Castle, home of the Unseelie Court, in Magesblood.

* * *

The day had passed fairly swiftly for Morven. He had spent most of it loafing about the ship and going over some of the sale records from Lir and their previous stop on Roane Island. And drinking rum.

Rum was good.

While drinking his rum, he also pondered about his dilemma involving the young girl on his ship. He knew she was in trouble, but he couldn’t figure out what kind of trouble. There was a haunted and hallowed look about her that worried him. The girl was beyond jaded and far too young for such a harsh demeanor. She also had some major trust issues that he was going to have to work with her on if she was to stay aboard his ship. This girl could prove problematic…. Very problematic.

He shook his head and rose from the desk in his quarters, draining the last of the rum in his bottle. Eyeing the empty bottle, sadly, he decided to find more. Morven stepped out onto the deck, the moonlight casting light around him and over the calm sea. He could hear the men down in the lower regions of the ship enjoying their dice and card games, but more importantly, their nightly grog. He stepped down and watched, half-heartedly, for awhile, accepting the drinks from flasks that his crew passed to him. Growing bored with the rambunctious and drunken crew, he decided to take his leave of them. Nicking another bottle of rum, he headed for the galley for a snack. He also wanted to check on the girl. He took another healthy swig of the amber colored liquor and prepared to head down the steps to the galley, humming a sea shanty to himself.

* * *

This must be the hell for girls who fall in love with Goblin Princes, Alyx thought as she bent nearly inside a cauldron half her size to scrub. She felt like some kind of a screwed up version of Cinderella. Leaning back from the cauldron, she wiped the sweat from her brow. For the last two days, she had not left the kitchen from well before dawn to nearly the middle of the night. Instead, she was stuck there cleaning up after Lefty while the fat cook had lounged about and hit her when she displeased him. Lefty had ordered her to the piles of unwashed dishes after she finished helping him throw together the slop he had the gall to call dinner. Though the food looked and smelled vile, Alyx was so hungry that she would have gladly asked for seconds if he had let her eat. Sending her straight to the mounds of filthy dishes, he left her with his orders and no dinner. He also wanted his kitchen spotless by the time he had gotten done drinking and gambling that evening. Unfortunately for Alyx, he had had a bad streak of luck that night and lost all his gold early and decided to return to the galley.

Lefty barreled down the steps like a typhoon, angry at his luck and looking for something to take it out on. He saw his new cabin boy, working away, and his eye glinted, evilly, in the dark. The damned runt was trying to show him up on the ship, Lefty reasoned. Probably brought the bad luck with him as well, he added. He grabbed up the nearest item he could find, which happened to be a thick glass plate and hurled it at the back of Alyx’s head, only to miss. It shattered upon the wall above her head. She gasped and turned quickly, a skillet in hand to defend herself. Alyx then dodged a pan Lefty hurled, drunkenly, in her direction.

He snarled. “Ya damned stupid runt! I said I wanted all these dishes done by the time I got back!”

“I’ve been trying! There were a lot of dishes left from dinn-“ Alyx started and dodged a pot. She snarled. “Besides, I’ve been working shit jobs all day without anything to eat!”

“I’m sick and tired of yer mouth!” Lefty took two large steps and swung out with his meaty fist. It connected with the side of Alyx’s head, throwing her to the floor. He stumbled towards her as her head swam.

Alyx gasped, her voice full of pain. “Words is easy when you speak the truth!”

“I’ll show you what we do to smart mouthed little cabin boys ‘round here!” Lefty leaned down and grabbed her by the shirt, lifting her to her feet. Alyx’s head cleared, quickly, and she fumbled for the knife she had hidden in her clothes. Grasping it tightly, she pressed the blade against his throat hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. He froze, staring down at her cold blue eyes.

“Touch me again and I’ll slit your damn throat while you sleep.” She hissed and dug the blade in a little deeper for emphasis. “Do you understand me? Just nod.”

He nodded, his one eye wide.

“Good. Now, let go of my shirt.” He released her and she kept the tip of the knife at his throat. She backed him up against one wall, her eyes boring into hers. “I had enough of being knocked around before I ever came to this damned place and I won’t go through it again.”

“What the bloody hell is all the racket down here?” Morven asked, eyeing them both from his position at the bottom of the steps. He took a swig from his bottle of rum. “You should know that I tolerate no brawlin’ on my ship, cabin boy.”

Alyx dropped her knife-wielding arm and stepped back from Lefty. The fat cook scrambled away from her and towards his Captain’s side.

“Damned boy tried to murder me, Capt’!” Lefty lied, laying it on thicker than molasses. “The runt tried to slit me throat when I came down to clean up the kitchen!”

“Got anything to say to that, lad?” Morven looked to Alyx and she raised her chin in defiance.

She spat out. “Tell the damned drunk to stop slappin’ me around and I’ll stop cuttin’ him.”

Morven sat down his bottle of rum as he took her chin in his hand, turning her face to observe her injuries. Morven’s eyes hardened when he saw the bruises on her face. She had fresh ones blossoming over the older purple ones from that morning. Her eye was blackened and blood dripped down her chin from her rebusted lip. “Aye, Lefty. Stop slappin’ the boy ‘round and he won’t be cuttin’ ya.” 

Lefty blanched and his jaw dropped. “Cap’n, I-“ 

“Belay that!” Morven ordered as he turned to stare the fat cook down. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw ya overboard to the sea serpents right now!” 

“T-The runt was mouthin’ me, sir. I just was tryin’ to teach him to respect his elders and-“

Morven drew back his fist and then released it at Lefty’s good eye, knocking the cook to the floor of the galley. Lefty wiped at the blood running down into his eye and stared up at the Captain in amazement.

“Krollin!” Morven yelled, shaking his pained fist. The steward was at his side in an instant.

“Aye, Cap’n?” Krollin asked, eyeing the fat cook and the bruised girl.

“Throw this fool in the brig until we reach Hawker’s Mooring.” Morven spoke, casually, as he wiped off his fist off with the tattered edge of the blue sash around his waist. “Any problems, Then… Throw him overboard, I suppose.” 

“Aye.” Krollin dragged Lefty to his feet and escorted him away, rather roughly, in respect for the girl he had already come to like in only a few days time. Morven turned back to Alyx and gripped her chin in his hand, gently. He studied her bruises again.

“How long?” He asked.

“All the last two days.” Alyx stated, bluntly, jerking away from his grip. “Since the second I was left alone in there with him.”

His face became stony. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need any help. I was handling things fine when you came along and ruined it.” Alyx snapped.

He chuckled. “I can see that. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She insisted and moved to her bag, squirreled away in one corner. From deep inside, she produced a small jar, and Morven watched her, curiously. She opened it and he gagged at the smell.

“What is that slop?” He asked, pinching shut his nose. “Smells like the Bog of Eternal Stench!”

She looked back to him, sharply, from where she had been applying it to her wounded face. “You’ve been to the Labyrinth?”

“Course I ‘ave. I do a lot of business in the Goblin City. We sell a lot of chickens there. Those goblins sure do like their chickens… You from the Goblin City?”

She shook her head and he voice grew soft. “No… I knew someone who was from there. He gave me this salve. He put Bog water in it.”

Morven cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Where is he now?”

She shrugged and closed the jar, dropping it back into her bag. “Gone.”

“Gone, eh?” Morven frowned as she slung the bag over one arm and turned back to face him.

“Gone.” She noticed his face and changed the subject. “Sorry that I almost killed your cook.”

He chucked her under the chin after grabbing his bottle of rum, and turned to go back to the deck. “You’re our new cook ‘til we get to Hawker’s Mooring, then. Come and we’ll drink some rum to celebrate yer promotion from cabin boy to cook. Grab yerself something to eat while yer at it. Yer like sticks an’ bones.”

Alyx studied his retreating figure to see if he was really serious and then smiled, weakly. “I don’t suppose you have honeysuckle whiskey?”

* * *

Hell hath no fury like that of the Lady of the Sindhe family. Jora strode down the halls of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, in a furious blaze. Anger radiated from the beautiful Fae as she made her way to the doors of her brother’s throne room. Flinging those doors open with the wave if one hand, she cast out an accusing finger at the pair sitting in the throne and snarled. “You rats!”

Sarah and Jareth both blinked and gave her a blank stare as they studied the angry Fae woman before them. The pair had been enjoying spending the rest of the afternoon talking amongst the chattering and drunken goblins after their disappearance from Merial when she had suddenly burst into the room in an outrage.

“How dare you two just up and disappear like that!” Jora seemed exasperated as she paced before them and Sarah noticed that there were feathers in her blonde hair.

“Calm down, Jora…” Jareth remarked, dryly. “You are causing yourself to molt.”

She gave him an evil glare and continued. “Grandma nearly had a coronary! You didn’t even tell _me_ that you were leaving! Don’t you think I was getting sick of that place too? I had to fly all the way to Lir to find Roland and Trog and when I got back, you two had vanished!!”

Jareth’s eyes widened a little. “Uh… Sorry?”

Jora sat down at the steps to the throne with an exasperated huff and gave them both a sly smile. “You two were the talk of the Court before I left.”

Sarah frowned and muttered. “Revolutionizing the way the Fae date is _exactly_ how I wanted to spend my summer vacation.”

“Oh, I’m glad you’re going to be my sister!” Jora replied, happily. “I always wanted a sister.”

Sarah frowned as Jora then flounced her way out of the room, and headed for her own quarters. She turned to Jareth. “They act like we’re already married.”

He shrugged. “I warned you. I come from a very messed up bunch. Now finish telling me about ‘Return of the Jedi’.”

* * *

After a rocky first two days, things became a little easier for Alyx aboard the Merrow Wind. She took Lefty’s place in the kitchen and the men were overjoyed to be rid of the thieving cook and his nearly inedible food. Even as happy as they were to have a better cook, most of the crew steered clear of the mysterious new cabin boy. They had heard tales of Lefty’s nearly slit throat and did not wish the hostile Elfish boy to attack them. That didn’t bother Alyx. She preferred when the other crew members stayed away from her as much as possible. She neither knew nor wanted to know them. Her obvious distrust and wish for solidarity showed, and the crew stayed away.

There were exceptions to those who wanted to be in her company. One was the steward, Krollin. Since the incident with Lefty, the Genki hardly left her side. He abandoned whatever his other duties had been before she arrived and began to spend his hours helping her in the kitchen. His strong, silent presence was always not far behind Alyx’s every step. His hawk-like watch over her made rumors fly that the cabin boy was Morven’s bastard son and the Captain had assigned Krollin to watch over the lad. These rumors were squashed, soundly, by Morven himself as soon as they reached his ears.

Alyx and Krollin almost never spoke to one another, but in their time together he had taken her under his wing and began to teach her. She learned how to tie knots, how to help run the sails, and steer the ship. During the days, he taught her navigation by the sun and at night the age-old ways of following the stars. After finding Alyx practicing alone with a short sword on the deck late at night, Morven ordered Krollin to teach her sword fighting techniques. Their evenings then on were spent practicing by lantern-light. Both pirates were surprised at how quickly she learned in her first week. With a little more practice and lessons the girl was going to prove her self a master swordswoman. Alyx was easing into her new life.

They were well into the second week of their voyage when Alyx lugged a large bowl of scraps above deck as she finished cleaning the kitchen. Dumping the contents over the side of the ship, she could hear the men, below, laughing and gambling. She heard Morven’s booming laugh as he entertained the men with another raunchy tale of his many adventures. Making a mental note to stop by and listen in one a tale or two before bed, she turned to go back to the galley.

Something large collided with her, sending her pan flying, and her body down hard on the wooden deck. She wrestled, in vain, against the attacker’s incredible strength. Two meaty hands went around her neck, squeezing tightly, and closing off her windpipe. Choking, she clawed at the hands clamped around her throat.

“Little runt!” Lefty hissed, his rank breath hot on her face. “I’ll show you that Lefty McCribbs is no man to be messed with!”

Alyx’s knee came up, hard, into his groin. He cried out in pain and his hold on her loosened. She scrambled free, gasping, and rubbing her sore neck. He grabbed for her as she went, his hand catching her shirt. It ripped as she stumbled away. She scrambled to her feet as he stared between the scrap of cloth in his hand and her nearly nude front.

“A woman?” He sneered. “No wonder the Captain wants ya untouched.”

Alyx drew her knife from her boot and held it out at him, her face grim. Her other arm held the remains of her shirt over her chest across her chest as she drew back her shoulders to stand up straight. Her voice was still shaky as she ordered. “You stay back.”

He began to advance upon her with a sneer. “Aye, I’ll be wantin’ a tumble before I strangle ya then. The Cap’n knows better than to not share the trove evenly.”

She dodged his sweaty grasp, slicing open his arm as she did so. He growled and swung with his other fist, knocking her against the rail of the ship. Her knife tumbled down into the murky sea with a soft splash. She turned around to see him running for her. When he closed in, she ducked down, grabbing at his legs. She rose with all her strength, sending him over the rails, and into the dark waters with a great splash. Leaning against the rail, Alyx stared down into the murky waters, gasping for breath and shaking uncontrollably. Lefty did not surface in the dark waters. She heard boot steps behind her and Morven rushed to her side.

“What the hell are you doing kid?” Morven asked as he peeled off his jacket and threw it around her shoulders. He glanced around, nervously, looking for crew members. “You tryin’ to blow your cover?”

She shook her head, staring at the water. “No.”

“What happened?”

“Lefty attacked me. He tried to strangle me and I threw him overboard.” Alyx’s eyes never left the waves. “He tried to choke me and I killed him. I’ve never killed anyone before, Morven.”

“Damn.” Morven grimaced and shouted. ”Mr. Krollin!”

As if appearing from no where, the steward was at his side. “Aye, Cap’n?”

“Inform the crew of Lefty’s death. Tell them he attacked Enan and in the struggle, Lefty fell to the sea.”  
“Aye Cap’n.”

“Also inform the men that any other attempts on the boy’s life will result in the same fate.”

“Aye.” Krollin went back below, throwing one last look at the shaking girl beside the Captain.

Morven took Alyx’s arm and wrapped it around his neck to help her walk. “Come now, kid. Let’s put you to bed in my quarters for the night and tend to those bruises and scrapes.”

Alyx let him help her to his quarters and sit her down on the bed. Before letting her change into the clothes he scrounged up for her, he went to examining her wounds. After tending to her bruises and scrapes, he pronounced her fit as a fiddle. In celebration, he broke out a bottle of rum. He filled her healthy glass and she downed it with a grimace before holding it out for a refill.

Morven smiled and obliged. He held the bottle out for a toast. “To near escapes and another day, kid.”

They toasted and Alyx took another healthy swig of the burning liquid. She stared at her hands for a moment. She spoke, softly. “When I first came here to the Underground, I had thought the life I had before was hell and that it was going to be like a fairytale here. I was wrong. So wrong… There are never any happy endings.”

“Mayhap your story hasn’t ended, yet.” Morven gave her a gentle smile. “You must remember that even in fairytales, the lasses have some rough times before the prince on the white horse comes along.”

Alyx’s eyes went to him, sharply. “Prince?”

“You know… With the fairytale happily-ever-after and such.”

She relaxed. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Morven gave her a funny look. “Yer very strange, Alyx.”

“I get that a lot,” Alyx sat down her drink and rubbed her head, tears coming to her eyes. She whispered. “I’ve never killed anyone before, Morven. I swear.”

“I know, lass. You did right, tonight. He would have done the same or worse to ya.” Morven squatted down and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Life ain’t always easy in the Underground, Alyx. Ya haven’t been cursed yet, have ya?”

She shook her head and sniffled. “No.”

“Then yer ahead of the game!” Morven grinned and gave her a playful shake. “Although, I say ya haven’t really lived until you’ve been cursed. Trust me. I’ve had a few curses thrown my way over the years.”

Alyx chuckled and wiped away her tears. “Thanks, Morven.”

“Anytime, lass. I’ll send Krollin for your things. You’re staying in here tonight for yer own safety. Them’s orders.”

Alyx nodded and kicked off her glass slippers. Morven watched in amazement as her clothing changed to the slightly oversized men’s clothing she’d brought from Merial. She gave him a sheepish look when he stared, gape-jawed at the transformation.

“How the bloody hell did you do that?” Morven asked in amazement and then he saw the slippers on the carpet. He bent to study them, intently. “Glass slippers? I thought those were all broken.”

Alyx tucked her feet up on the bed and propped herself up on one elbow to watch him study her shoes. “It’s my disguise until I can do my glamour. They were a gift.”

Morven whistled, low as he tucked them under the edge of her bed. “You’ve got yourself somethin’ there, kiddo. Glass slippers are hard to come by. Hold on to them. Good strong magic in those things.”

She nodded as she rested her head upon the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

Morven moved to go to the door, intending on having a quick word with the crew about what had happened to Lefty. He stopped, his hand upon the doorknob, and turned back to the girl. “Why are you runnin’, Alyx?”

She looked to him, sharply. “That’s none of your business.”

“Okay! Okay! Don’t bust a hull there, kid.” Morven replied, quickly, realizing he had treaded upon bad grounds. “Just make me the deal that if your secrets are gonna get me into trouble, you’ll tell me.” 

“Deal.”

* * *

With quivering eyes, the tiny goblin studied the royal medallion in his clawed hands. He knew the importance of the pendant and what it meant, so he had made it his personal mission to return it to the Goblin City after the banishment of the Goblin Prince. He waited until he had heard that King Jareth had returned home to make the trip across the lands. It had taken him little time to maneuver his way from Merial and through the Enchanted Wood to reach the outer edges of the Labyrinth. He tore his eyes from the medallion and peered up at the wall separating him from the Labyrinth. Tucking the royal treasure away in his clothing, he scuttled up the wall and perched at the top. He sniffed the wind and scratched under his chin with his clawed toe. In the distance, he saw the Goblin city and past that, the castle.

He knew he needed to find her. The Lady Sarah. She would know what to do with the treasure. Using that special magic that all goblins have, he transported himself to just outside of the throne room in the castle. Even outside he could hear his always rowdy brethren well off at their day’s work of drunken fun. Peeking in, he did not see the Great Lady, so he scampered down the massive halls in search of her. In his hurry around one blind corner, he managed to tangle himself in a pair of sturdy and short legs.

“An’ where do you think yer goin’?”

The small goblin smiled up at the gardener dwarf, Hoggle, and detangled himself from the dwarf’s legs. “Looky for the Lady. Gotta treasure for her!”

Hoggle eyed the small creature, knowing most goblins considered anything from chicken feathers to broken spoons a treasure. “What kinda treasure?”

The small creature’s eyes quivered and he hugged the pendant inside his clothes to himself. “Special and shiny! Sandwiches gotsa give it to her!”

“Well, uh, Sandwiches… I… Uh… Follow me.” Hoggle led the little creature towards the gardens. Sarah had thrown down a blanket over the covering of green grass and at the present time, she and Didymus were playing cribbage. Ludo watched on with a happy smile upon his large face.

Hoggle cleared his throat. “Uh, Sarah? I fou-“

“Sandwiches gots treasure, Lady!” The tiny goblin raced ahead, nearly knocking Hoggle to the ground. Sandwiches vaulted from Ludo’s knee and landed in Sarah’s lap.

Sarah laughed at the overly anxious goblin. “You do? Let’s see.”

Beaming his gap toothed smile, he produced the medallion from his shirt and held it out to her in one clawed hand. “Gots ya the Prince’s necklace! Nice and shiny! You likey?”

Sarah gasped as she ran her fingers over the smooth metal of the medallion. She whispered. “Where did you find this, Sandwiches?”

“I gots it in the dungeons when Kingy was yellin’.” Sandwiches’ grin faded a little. “When the Prince went bye-bye. Thoughts about it and knew to brings it to the Lady.”

Sarah stroked the small creature over the head, lovingly. “Thank you, Sandwiches… This is a lovely treasure.”

“Sandwiches knows it was important, so he brings it.” The small creature raised his leg, much like a dog, to scratch behind one ear. He paused and cocked his head to one side. “Sandwiches do good?”

“Yes, you did wonderful, Sandwiches. You are a delightful little goblin.”

The goblin grinned happily and curled up in the folds of her lap. She looked up to Hoggle’s worried face.

“Dontcha’ even be thinking’ it!” Hoggle warned. “You are no match for the Queen of Air and Darkness.”

Sarah gave him a look of defiance. “I took on Jareth!”

“Yeah, but Jareth wasn’t out to kill you and he fancied ya.” Hoggle retorted. “Mab don’t _fancy_ no one! ‘Sides that, yer still mortal!”

“Jorall can fix that!” Sarah replied. “He did for Alyx!”

“An’ he botched the whole thing!” Hoggle was growing frustrated. She had not changed much from the stubborn fifteen-year-old he had first met. “You heard Oberon! She’s got _years_ ‘til the magic settles! That girl may not even live to be immortal!”

Sarah frowned and rubbed her fingers along the smooth metal of Jaron’s medallion. “Well, I have to do something! Hey… Jaron was a wily Fae… Maybe he’s got something in his room tha-“

Didymus interjected with a sharp yelp. “Nay, my Lady! Entrance to Master Jaron’s room has always been prohibited!”

“’Sides that, ya never know what might jump out at ya from in there.” Hoggle added. “There are three places no goblin will go, willingly, in this kingdom. “The Bog, Jareth’s private quarters, and Jaron’s room.”

“It can’t be _that_ scary.” Sarah set Sandwiches down, gently, on the blanket and rose. “Where is his room?”

“Sarah, I’m telling you. It’s a bad idea.” Hoggle said, firmly. “Who knows what kind of weird stuff that kid’s got pack-ratted up there?”

“Maybe exactly the kind that’ll bring him home.” Sarah tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the castle.

Hoggle groaned and looked towards Didymus. “Does she always gotta be so damn stubborn?”

“Our Sarah is a willful lady. Wait for me, my lady!” Didymus commented, idly as he climbed into Ambrocious’s saddle and went to follow Sarah. “Come brother Ludo!”

With a grunt, Ludo rose and followed the tiny knight. Hoggle groaned and looked down at the wide eyed goblin, who looked about, nervously.

“Uh, Sandwiches going too.” The little creature scampered off to follow them.

“Oh… Wait for me!” Hoggle cried and hurried as fast as his short legs would take him. “None of you even know the way!”

* * *

If there was anything close to Hell in the Underground, the vast dungeons of Travares Castle in Magesblood were it. It had been built in its entirety centuries ago by the Dark King Ulger the Dire, Mab’s deceased husband’s father. King Ulger, who, by unholy works, had achieved the title Lord of All That Crawls In Darkness, had the enormous dungeons built and operational before even one stone was set in his sinister castle. He had wanted to be sure he had a place to punish those that needed punishment. As how the dungeons were Ulger’s favorite place to haunt, so were they of Mab Nightshayde. She stalked the vast rooms, watching as her torturers punish those who needed punishment. The Queen had dressed in one of her nicest gowns, roamed her dungeons and watched, entertained. Mab was holding an impromptu celebration that evening, a dark ball held in honor of sin alone. Sin and her immense glee at having the Goblin Prince in her clutches at long last.

She was wearing white to mark the occasion. Her gown was all flounce and feathers trimming her beautiful body. Her corset top dipped daringly low, flaunting the swells of her breasts and she fanned herself with a large feathered fan. Mab would have looked like an angel, except for the splashes of crimson blood covering her false purity. She had come here to the dungeons to seek the last accessory to her gown that evening. The blood of the Goblin Prince. Humming happily to herself, she headed back towards the stairs that would lead her out of the dungeons and on to her festivities. She paused before the head dungeon master, a small and impious looking Fae man in black.

“Make sure that my guest of honor is treated well during the festivities tonight.” She ordered.

“It shall be done, your grace.” The Fae hissed, bowing low.

Taking one last appraising look over her dark battlefield of pain, she smiled, wickedly, and left the dungeons to enjoy her ball. The dungeon master let out a small laugh as the sharp, pain-filled scream of the Goblin Prince rang out over the dungeons. The dungeon master’s eyes drifted back to the heavy wooden door that did nothing to muffle the agonized screams and he chuckled, nervously, going back to his own victims.

* * *

Hours later, as the dungeons were silent in the darkest of night, Morgan appeared at the dungeon doorway, dressed in the darkest of finery. A formfitting black gown hugged her lithe curves as she made her way down the stairs and across the empty torture halls. A high collar surrounded the back of her neck, but the front of the dress plunged low, to her navel, revealing nearly all her charms to the world. She stopped before a door. Black lace opera gloves cradled her pale arms as she lifted the large skeleton key to the lock. The fingerless gloves made it easy for her to turn the rusted key. Brushing back the plumes on her black top hat, she pushed open the heavy door. Grabbing a torch on the wall outside of the room, she stepped in, letting the firelight brighten the room.

Across from her sat the Iron Maiden and her shoes made a clipped tapping noise against the stone floor as she made her way towards it. Under the massive Maiden ran small canals in the stone where red blood dripped into a small half-full basin. Blood had been splattered everywhere in the room. Raising the torch, she gasped when she peered into the slit made at the head of the Iron Maiden. Eyes stared back at her and they blinked.

”Help me.” A cracked voice hissed and Morgan dropped her torch with a gasp.

Scrambling to the side of the Maiden, she struggled to open the heavy lid. A bloody and wounded body fell at her feet, shaking in the cold. Falling to her knees, she studied the bloody puncture wounds covering the thin body, but had her hands batted away.

“I’ll live.” Jaron’s voice was low and pain-filled. “Do not get hurt for me.”

Morgan cradled his head in her lap and brushed back a lock of his blood-soaked hair. “It is my job to heal you, Goblin Prince.”

Jaron looked up at her and she nearly gasped at how they had nearly ruined his face. Massive puncture wounds from the Iron Maiden covered not only his face, but his whole body. Blood seeped from each horrid wound.

Jaron noticed the look of horror cross her face and he laughed, bitterly. “It wasn’t cold iron. I will not scar like this, Morgan.”

“It was your blood that covered her tonight, then?” Morgan let her magic cover him and soothe his wounds, slowly healing him. “Our dark Queen takes her enjoyment out of the strangest of things…”

“I won’t say the words.” Jaron replied, sharply. “I’ll die before I say it.”

“You just may at this rate.” Morgan replied, dryly. “You are a favorite victim amongst the Darkling Court. Many are asking when they get to have a turn at you.”

“Let them all come.” Jaron moved away from Morgan’s embrace as he slowly healed under her magic. He leaned against one wall, wearily. “I am not afraid.”

“You are cocky.” Morgan replied as she moved to close the lid of the Iron Maiden. “You have dreams that I’m afraid may be broken, Goblin Prince. Though your family wishes your return, I’m afraid they wish in vain. Mab will never let you go.”

“Then I will escape.” Jaron replied, his voice barely a whisper.

“Escape?” Morgan turned and was cracked upon the skull by the brick Jaron held in his hands. She crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Jaron bent to take her keys with bloody fingers and determined eyes.


	3. Beginnings Are Hardest When New

Sarah and her friends stared, nervously, up the dark spiral staircase that led to the top of the western tower and Jaron’s private quarters. The winding stone staircase was nearly covered in leafy vines and trees that supported the tower’s structure. Small, dimly glowing fairies and sprites peeked out at them from the vegetation covering the walls. They began passing the news up the staircase and the echoes of their many tiny voices whispered like the wind.

“The western and eastern towers were gifts between the brothers, my lady… For the eve of King Jareth’s Diamond Jubilee.” Didymus explained, attempting to keep his voice from shaking. “Each designed with the other in mind from the very beginning.”

“Gnomes and goblins line Jareth’s tower staircase. Looks like the entrance to a dragon’s lair or worse…” Hoggle added. “Both rooms are the two worst places you can go in this castle. Even Jareth and Jaron don’t spend much time in their own private quarters.”

“There are no torches.” Sarah frowned, peering up the winding staircase.

“Sandwiches hear there a dragon up there.” Sandwiches shook, slightly, in Sarah’s arms. “Dragon that likes crunchy-fried goblin.”

“I’m sure there’s no dragon.” Sarah replied, not entirely sure of her statement.

“Dragon… Mean…” Ludo swallowed hard.

“I seriously doubt that Jaron has a dragon that eats goblins.” Sarah reiterated, a little more firmly.  
“Crunchy fried.” Sandwiches reminded her. “All _crispy_ like.”

“I’ll not let any dragon hurt thee, my lady.” Didymus announced, regally.

Sarah gave him a thankful smile and took a determined breath before stepping onto the first step. The whispering voices of the fairies rose as she began her ascent. As she moved to turn the first curve of the staircase and into the darkness, she paused. She looked to either side of her and was relieved to find that Didymus and Hoggle flanked her with Ludo at their back. Sandwiches shivered in her arms, but held his ground. Lifting one foot for the next step, she moved into the darkness. The fairies and sprites began to chitter and the staircase brightened, considerably. Sarah blinked when she realized that the tiny creatures had brightened their natural glow.

“_They’re_ the torches…” Sarah whispered and the glow-fairies began to dance from wall to wall and lit their way.

Hoggle grunted. “Well, don’t let any of ‘em bite ya.”

The group made their way up the seemingly moonlit staircase which grew more and more akin to a dense forest the higher they went. Small trees grew through the walls and thick vegetation covered the stone. Glowing sprites hung from vines on the ceiling and reached out to caress Sarah’s hair as she passed. Minute fairies peeked from the midnight-blooming orchids and giggled at the sight of newcomers in their home. After a timely ascent of countless steps, they found the end of their journey. A large ivy covered door with a large golden lock stood before them. Sarah put one hand on the door and her thoughts flew back to when she was fifteen and first stepped into the Labyrinth. She paused and almost took a step back, slightly afraid to disturb the missing prince’s quarters. Squaring her shoulders, she determinedly pushed the heavy door open, half expecting a dragon to come bursting out at her. When nothing jumped out at her and the door proved unlocked, she gave the rest of the group a triumphant smile.

“I told you there wasn’t any dragon.” Sarah said and stepped forwards.

It was right about then that she saw the dragon to her immediate left. Well, technically, Sandwiches saw it first. Before she had even landed that first step, he had shrieked in fear and scrambled from her arms. In his haste at the stairs, he tripped, and rolled downwards, out of sight. Sarah gasped at the sight of the dragon and her hands flew up in defense before she realized that it was merely an elaborate statue. She gave a great sigh of relief and leaned against one wall. Upon her further inspection of the statue, she found a gold ostrich-sized egg resting in the stone creature’s jaws.

“Sandwiches! It’s not real!” Sarah called but the small creature was long gone. She turned back to face the room.

“Whoa…” Sarah’s eyebrows rose as she took in the tower room and all the objects lining the shelves and walls.

It seemed that the Goblin Prince was a bit of a packrat. Sarah laughed as she realized that the dragon statue was currently bearing a wide array of Jaron’s clothes, including the sleeveless duster she had first seen him in and the maroon jacket that Jareth had worn in the tunnels when she ran the Labyrinth. She picked it up and smiled, fondly.

“He must ‘ave nicked that from Jareth.” Hoggle commented and looked around the room warily. “Let’s hurry in here. This place gives me the willies.”

“Stop being such a scaredy-cat.” Sarah teased as she moved on from the dragon statue to read some of the titles of the books on the nearest shelf. “There’s gotta be something here that can help Jaron.”

Sarah was amazed at the diversity of the books lining the shelves. Titles ranged _from Lead to Gold: An Alchemist’s Journey_ by Wyntr le Fey, _Chikin’ Cookin’_ by Munchies the Goblin, _Advanced Sorcery for the Bold or the Foolish_ by Rithmandir the White, _Memoirs of a Boo Hag_ by Meg Mucklebone, and _Kings of the Mystic: The Majestic Gryphon _by Sir Reginald Bottom. Others Hoggle that had to translate for her were a child’s trainer for simple Trollish, a book on growing your own carnivorous and venomous plants, a few scrolls that gave a spell for afflicting warts as well as removing them, and a book of rather horrid rhymes signed by Heep-Heep the Rhymer himself.

Moving on from the books, Sarah nearly tripped over a rather old spinning wheel near a pile of scattered straw. She eyed it, quizzically, and stepped upon the peddle, gently.

“The little rat won that in a card game against Rumplestiltskin with a royal flush.” Hoggle commented with a grunt. “Won me best sprayer too. Wonder if it’s up here…”

Sarah seemed, incredulous. “Seriously? That thing turns straw into gold?”

Hoggle shrugged and peered at some of the trunks lining one wall. “Dunno. Knowing Stiltskin… Probably.”

Sarah’s eyes moved on and caught on a wine bottle resting on top of a nearby armoire. The label was slowly peeling off and the top was corked and sealed with bright red wax. She moved to pick it up and Didymus stopped her with one paw on her leg.

“I would not touch that bottle my lady.” He eyed it, warily. “I believe Master Jaron has a djinn trapped inside.”

Fog swirled in the bottle and Sarah leapt back as if burned. “Whoa.”

“Oh, we ain’t gonna find nothin’ but trouble in here! Let’s just go!” Hoggle grumbled.

“No. Everyone split up. We’ll find something.” Sarah insisted as they moved on through the room.

Their search turned up three golden apples, six rather sinister looking puzzle boxes that Sarah refused to touch, a large crystal ball used for scrying, a cracked magic mirror that was enchanted to show anyone who looking into to be wearing a ballerina’s tutu, a large skein of red dragon’s hide, six locked trunks (one chained trunk bounced, violently, when they neared it), and a rather fancy quill made of phoenix feathers. In all, there was absolutely nothing that would help them to find Jaron. Sarah sat down on Jaron’s bed, a massive four post that consisted of four trees growing up and together into a bed shape and strewn with many colored furs. Vines fell around the bed like a sheer canopy and glowing fairies danced amongst the furs. She gave the room one more defeated gaze and her eyes caught on something next to her.

“Is that-“ Sarah blinked. “Is that a _cannon_?”

Didymus tapped it with his staff and the metal gave a hollow clang. “I believe so, my lady.”

“Oh… We shouldn’t even be in here!” Hoggle hissed looking around, warily, at the loud noise of the fox’s staff upon the metal barrel.

“There’s gotta be something in here that can help us. Maybe one of those magic books-“

“There ain’t nuthin’ here that can help Jaron.” Hoggle said, firmly. “If there was, then Jareth would have already gotten it and brought ‘im back!”

“I hate to admit it, but for once I agree with Hogsnot.” Jareth’s cool voice cut through the room and the group froze. “My, my, my… Truly you have the makings of a Queen, Sarah dear… I‘ve never seen anyone who can so easily convince my subjects to defy me, even when faced with such delightfully cruel punishments as ‘Bogging’ or ‘certain death’…. The lot of them know very well that this room is one of those that are considered _off-limits_.”

Sarah gave him a foul look as she spun to face him. “His name is _Hoggle_ and I’m not turning anybody aga-“

“What is the law considering the eastern and western towers, Hogbreath?” Jareth cut in, crisply.

“Hoggle.” Sarah insisted.

“Do not enter under punishment of swift bogging or certain death…” Hoggle grumbled.

“Precisely.” Jareth’s smile was canine sharp as Sarah’s cohorts disappeared into thin air.

“Jareth!” Sarah looked around with a frown. “Did you-“

“Bog them? Of course. They broke my law, Sarah. They knew the consequences of their actions. The miscreants escaped with their lives. Is that not generous?”

“That’s a load of-“

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they will find their way back well before dinner.” Jareth replied and took her hand to help her to rise. “Now, pray tell, my dear… Why are you nosing about in my brother’s tower?”

‘That was a wretched thing you did to them, Jareth. Bring them back.”

“They are being punished, Sarah.” Jareth replied, firmly. “Now, I shall repeat myself. What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Lookin’ for something to help Jaron.”

“Oh? Why this sudden interest in my brother’s plight? I am handling it.”

She produced Jaron’s medallion in one hand. “A goblin brought me this today. Called it a treasure.”

Jareth’s eyebrows cocked and he took the medallion from her, slowly. “Clever little creature…”

“That’s what I told him.”

Jareth’s mismatched eyes went to her as he tucked the amulet away in his vest. “Hogtoe was right, there is nothing here that can save my brother. Jaron collected oddities, nick-nacks, and magical trinkets… That’s all.”

“Oh, really? You even looked around in here?” Sarah cocked one eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure we found an evil genie in a wine bottle, what Hoggle suspected is a boggart locked in a trunk, and a book that’s spine tried to bite Ludo.”

It was Jareth’s turn to be impressed. “He’s got a fanged grimoire _and_ a djinn in a bottle? My, my, my… Someone’s been very busy…”

“And he still found time to steal your clothes.” Sarah replied, brightly, and held out the maroon leather jacket to him. “That book with the teeth is over there by the spinning wheel if you wanna tangle with it.”

Jareth frowned at the sight of his favorite jacket, as it had been missing for some time. “What else does he have lurking in here? The goblins say there is a dragon.”

“I heard. All I found is that statue over there.” Sarah gestured towards the creation and moved to run her hand over the cool stone. Jareth busied himself with peering at some of the scrolls on the shelves and she smirked. “Neat stuff, huh?”

“I suppose.” Jareth gave her a wry smile. “Odd things for him to have squirreled away.”

“Yeah. Check out this ostrich egg that he painted gold.” Sarah reached out for the egg from the dragon’s mouth.

“Don’t! It may be-“ Jareth started as she grasped the egg and cradled it in both hands. Nothing happened so he finished, lamely. “-booby-trapped…”

Sarah stared at the egg in awe. “It’s so warm…”

Jareth moved closer to peer at the egg and his face grew serious. “Sarah, I believe that’s a-“

The egg began to crack in her hands and she screamed, dropping it onto a pile of clothing on the floor. The egg gave a great shudder and the top cracked open and a small beaked face peeked out and blinked at Sarah. Jareth stood frozen as one small talon reached out and the creature gave a shrill screech. Immediately, Sarah bent and reached out to help the small creature from the confines of the golden eggshell.

“It’s a gryphon.” Sarah said in awe as she picked up the tiny golden feathered creature. The tiny creature gave an affectionate screech and flared its tiny wings. Sarah scratched under its beak and it purred.

“Yes. Your gryphon now.” Jareth replied.

Sarah’s green eyes looked to him, quizzically. “What?”

“You were the first thing it saw. It’s ‘mother’ in less words.”

Sarah looked down at the cute creature in her arms and back up at Jareth. “But it’s your brother’s gryphon, Jareth.”

“I believe, considering the circumstances, he would be delighted for you to raise this pet.” Jareth replied, truthfully.

“You really think so? I don’t know anything about raising a baby gryphon.” 

Jareth plucked a few books from the shelves of his brother’s room and offered them to her. “I believe these will help and I happen to know a little about the beasts. I think caring for a baby gryphon is a fitting punishment for you since you broke my laws, Sarah.”

“For one, my gryphon is not a beast.” Sarah replied, defensively as she scooped the tomes into her free arm. “And I didn’t know it was against the law to come up here.”

“Tut, tut, tut… Ignorance of the law is no excuse.” Jareth teased.

“That’s not fair and you know it, Jareth.” Sarah frowned.

“Are you that unhappy with the new pet, precious?”  
Sarah looked down at the baby gryphon, adoringly. “Of course not!”

“Then let me have this small victory.” Jareth gave her a sharp smile. “Besides, I believe your beast may be hungry.”

“She-“

“He.” Jareth replied, firmly.

“_He_ is not a beast.” Sarah scratched behind the creature’s little ear. “He’s adorable.”

Jareth peered, disdainfully, at the baby gryphon and the little creature snarled at him. Jareth gave the creature a snarl of his own. “Fear not, little beastie… The feeling is mutual.”

Sarah gave Jareth a foul look and turned for the stairs, snuggling the baby. “Don’t you listen to that nasty old Goblin King… He’s just jealous because you are so cute.”

Jareth watched her retreating figure, his jaw nearly to the floor. Then the beast had the audacity to smirk at him over Sarah’s shoulder. Jareth frowned as he realized that he had made a new enemy and followed as Sarah headed down the forest steps. He temporarily entertained the idea of bogging the creature, but decided against facing Sarah’s wrath over the runt. He narrowed his mismatched eyes at the gryphon and it was then that both parties declared war. 

“Promise me you won’t go wandering around in here again, precious?” Jareth asked. “Next time it may not be a pet that appears in your arms.”

“Fine by me. One venture in was enough for me.” Sarah gave him a small smile and paused on the steps, waiting for the fairies to brighten their glow.

At the sight of the faithful fairies that lit Jaron’s stairwell, Jareth’s thoughts drifted to his young brother. Perhaps he had been foolish to dismiss his brother’s quarters as useless for help in saving him. Sarah’s first foray in the tower had resulted in a priceless gift that would ensure a great protection for her. In his quick look about, he saw many things in that one room were quite powerful magic trinkets. Jareth wanted a closer look at that fanged grimoire and that spinning wheel. He also had a few questions for that djinn trapped in the wine bottle.

Sarah paused again on the stairwell and turned to give Jareth a smile. “Hoggle told me that this tower was a gift from you to your brother. You really had him in mind when you came up with it, huh?”

“My brother loves the forest. I wanted this place to be special from him.” Jareth reached her side and they descended the stairs, the fairies dimming in their wake.

“What is your tower like?”

Jareth gave her a sly smile. “It is like _me_. I would take you there now, but I only came to tell you that I shall be gone for a few days.”

Sarah’s face fell. “Why?”

“I’m headed for a small island south of the Grasslands Coast. If your friend Alyx is hiding anywhere, it is likely there in Hawker’s Mooring.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Sarah asked, angrily, and the gryphon in the crook of her arm snarled at Jareth.

“Bring her home.” Jareth replied, firmly. “Alyxandrea is _my_ ward. Nothing has changed that. Saving my brother may be a lost cause, but I’ll be damned if we lose her too.”

“She’ll fight you every step of the way and you’ll scare her. You need to be nice and control your temper.” Sarah gave him a pointed look. “Maybe, I should go with you…”

“Absolutely not!” Jareth insisted. “I simply refuse to take any woman, be she mortal or Fae to that _pit_. That wretched patch of soil is a teeming cesspool of vile outlaws who would skin and scalp you to make a fast coin.”

“Eww…” Sarah and the gryphon even quirked one eyebrow at the speech. “Sounds charming…”

“Indeed.” Jareth replied, grimly. “I hope to find your friend there before some bloody pirate does.”

* * *

“Land Ahoy!” A voice shouted out from the crow’s nest and Alyx practically flew to the deck of the ship from the galley. A thin green of land strip sat in the horizon. They were at Hawker’s Mooring. It felt like they had been at sea forever. She wiped her hands on her apron as Morven came to stand beside her with his eyeglass.

“Aye, Hawker’s Mooring. Get yerselves in gear boys! We’ve got cargo to unload!” Morven barked out the order and the crew hustled to do his bidding. Closing up his eyepiece, he gave Alyx a sharp look. “I still advise stayin’ with us ‘til we get to the Genki’s. This be a bad port-of-call for the wanted.”

“Can I go with you ashore?” She asked, her eyes locked on the thin strip of green on the horizon. “Just to see it?”

He shrugged. “Aye, I suppose so. Get yerself a good disguise together and you can come ashore with Krollin and me.”

Leaving him on the deck, she rushed off to make her disguise. It wasn’t long before she returned and Morven was quite proud of her creativity. She’d traded in her oversized hat to another crew member for an old and worn tricorne worn over a dingy blue bandana. She had donned dark earth-toned pants that were tucked into her calf high boots. Encasing her torso was an older and patched jacket that Morven recognized as a castoff of Krollin’s and under that a simple brown tunic. She had even smudged her face with coal. Morven smirked as she slipped up beside him, her thumbs hooked in her belt loops. She looked every part of a poor Elfish cabin boy.

“It’ll do ‘til you learn yer glamour, I suppose.” Morven mused, studying her. “I’ll call you… Aneurin… of the Genkis. You’re an elf and my new cabin boy, savvy?”

Alyx nodded, a little frightened about going ashore. “What do I-“

“Try an’ keep yer trap shut, for one.” Morven warned and then began throwing out orders for the docking. It took almost no time for the experienced crew to dock the massive ship and set about unloading the cargo. Morven moved to go down the steps leading from the helm and towards the gangplank.

“Mr. Krollin! I want extra cases of rum this time! Last stretch we ran mighty low!” Morven ordered as Alyx followed him.

“Aye, Cap’n.” Krollin appeared at their side and began to holler out the last of his orders to the crew. As they prepared to go ashore, Alyx was astounded to see a small dwarf striding up the gangplank. The small creature wore a backpack that was nearly larger than he was upon his back. A long pipe was clamped between his bearded lips and he was puffing away at it in short angry bursts. He strutted aboard and paused before the Captain. His clothing was dark in color, but seafaring in style. He also had a short sword at his side. Long gray hair had been braided and dreadlocked under his worn bandana. A long silver beard was plated into twin beaded braids that trailed the ground from his chin. He looked up at Morven with his small green eyes and gave a snort of disapproval.

“Yer late, Squall.” The dwarf grumbled around the pipe. “Two days late.”

“Am not.” Morven retorted as put his hands on his hips with a frown. “I’ll bet you _just_ got here.”

The dwarf snorted and chewed on the end of his pipe. “Caught first ferry I could over from the mainland. Canna stand them woods no more. ‘Tis bad times in the Wood.”

Morven raised an eyebrow. “Your niece’s wedding didn’t go well, I take it?”

“You’ve not heard the news? The entire Wood mourns!” The dwarf frowned and took his pipe into one hand. “The Fairy Friend has been banished from the Golden Court. There’ll be few happy events amongst the fairies for a time, I’d wager. Not with ‘im gone.”

“The Fairy Friend?” Alyx asked, confused. “Who is that?”

The dwarf looked to her and looked her up and down with another disapproving snort. “Did you just fall from yer first schooner, lad? Who else but the Goblin Prince?”

“Banished? How?” Morven asked, curious about this new development.

The dwarf looked around, nervously. “I’ll tell ya when we’re out to sea. Less ears out there. When do we set sail?”

Morven laughed, heartily. “We’ve only just arrived. I know you hate dry land, but I’ve cargo to unload and sell.”

“Hurry about it then! I’m ready to go back to the Genkis, by thunder! Nothing like the weather and the sea there. Course, the ladies are not bad to look at either.” The dwarf blew out a cloud of smoke with a sigh. “Things are getting bad on the inlands, Morven. Best we steer to the sea.”

“Yer bossy.” Morven frowned. “Have you forgotten who the Captain of this ship is?”

“No, but I’m here to tell ya when ya ain’t doin’ things right!” The dwarf pointed his pipe at Alyx and squinted. “Who’s the kid?”

“This is Aneurin. He’s our new cabin boy.” Morven made the introductions, a little huffily. “Aneurin this is Quigli. Our look-out, healer, and resident grouch.”

“Cabin boy?” Quigli snorted. “Yeah, and tell me another fairy tale! You haven’t had a cabin boy in nigh on twenty years. Not since that one cursed you to speak in riddles for a whole season at sea.”

Morven frowned at Quigli. “I’ll explain to you _later_ when so many ears are not about, dwarf. Yer in charge onboard. We’re going to see Stiggur about the cargo and the new crew to sail to the Genkis. Make sure we get the extra rum this go ‘round.”

Quigli gave one last snort and turned towards the crew, immediately barking out orders. Morven watched with a slight smile and then led the way ashore. Alyx’s eyes widened as they stepped onto the docks of Hawker’s Mooring and she grew slightly nervous. Krollin stayed close by her side as they weaved their way through the throng of fairy folk crowding the docks.

Hawker’s Mooring was indeed one giant marketplace. The island was nestled off the coast of the southern Austral Grasslands and hosted the busiest port in the Underground. Trader’s, peddlers, pirates, merchants; all were to be found in Hawker’s Mooring selling their many wares. As Morven led them through the narrow, stall lined streets, Alyx’s eyes strayed to the oddities that befell her eyes. At one stall a elf boasted a cure-all for any hex, curse, or charm in one little bottle that held barely a thimbleful of a bright green liquid while in the stall next to him, a goblin peddled the latest rages in clothing straight from Fin Bheara. Many times Alyx wished she could have stopped at the exotic stalls, but Morven pushed on through the city. Krollin kept her close at his side, until they reached a doorway with a sign swinging above that read; Stiggur of Hawker’s Mooring, Merchant and Others.

Alyx nudged Krollin and asked. “Others?”

“Stiggur dabbles in all kinds of deals.” Krollin explained.

Morven nodded. “A former pirate himself, Stiggur is.”

Just as Morven went to enter, the door burst open and a large ogre stood in the doorway, a frown upon his ugly, green tinged face. He saw Morven and his lips stretched into a wide grin over his crooked teeth.

“Cap’n Squall! Yer early in this trip, ain’t ya?” The orge’s voice boomed.

“Aye Stiggur.” Morven agreed and clasped the ogre’s hand in his own. “Just come from the Isle of Man and Lir. Had great winds at my back.”

The ogre smiled. “Good news. Come in and tell me of the cargo.”

They followed the ogre into his tidy shop. Alyx gazed around at the practically bare walls and empty shelves.

She frowned. “There’s nothing to buy in here.”

Stiggur looked to her, curiously, and asked Morven. “Who’s the green elf?”

“This is my new cabin boy, Aneurin of the Genkis. This is his first time in Hawker’s Mooring.”

Stiggur chuckled. “With the amounts I sell and buy, I could never have a shop big enough, little Genki.”

Stiggur poured them all a glass of ale and sat down in a chair with a sigh. He took a large swig of his drink and looked to Morven. “Things are in a turmoil on the mainland, Morven.”

“Aye. I hear the Friend of the Fairies has been banished.” Morven took a drink while Alyx feigned ignorance of their conversation and sipped at her ale. “’Tis a shame. The lad had brought humor and laughter back to the Lightling Court.”

The ogre nodded. “Many blame King Jareth’s poor decision making and threaten a possible uprising in both Merial and the Goblin City. Things are mighty unsettled in the Underground. Makes it hard for trading. The entire Enchanted Wood and Goblin City mourn him.”

“The boy’s not dead, surely.” Morven frowned.

“Might as well be, being banished without magic or anythin’ of that sort. He’s at the mercy of the Unseelie.” Stiggur grabbed a handful of scrolls and thrust them at Morven. “’Tis the best prices I could get for the cargo with the times.”

Krollin looked them over, swiftly, and thrust a few scrolls back at Stiggur. “Nay, we’ll not sell the morning glory or the wild spice for those prices. Nor will we accept that offer on the belladonna.”

Morven peered at the scrolls and frowned. “Aye, even with a bad market, I’ll not let them go at those prices.”

Stiggur smiled, knowingly. “A shrewed pair you are. I’ll double it then.”

“A deal.” Morven agreed. “ And the new crew?”

“Found a great lot, ready to sail to the Genki’s.” Stiggur produced a few small bags of coins. “Trusty lot, most lookin’ for a long haul.”

Alyx nudged Krollin as Morven and Stiggur discussed the crew. “I’m going to step outside.”

Krollin nodded. “Don’t go far.”

She nodded and left the shop. Stepping out into the street, she began to browse the many stalls lining the road. After getting a batch of thick stew served in a bowl made of bread, she wandered back towards Stiggur’s shop. Mid-spoonful, she saw a troop of Seelie Guards being led down the street towards her. She froze beside Stiggur’s doorway, trying to be inconspicuous. That’s when she saw Jareth following the guard and she dropped her bowl of stew. Her eyes widened and she ducked in the doorway of the shop.

Stiggur looked up from his desk with a frown. “You look as if you’ve seen the Queen of Air and Darkness herself, kid.”

“The Goblin King is here, with the Seelie guard!” She gasped.

“Worse then.” Morven groaned and scooped up his pay. “I’d best make sail, Stiggur. The Golden Court does not like pirates.”

The ogre nodded and motioned towards the back. “Go that-ways and sail the ship. I’ll stall them.”

Krollin grabbed Alyx’s arm and the three flew out the back door, as the Seelie Guard crashed in the front. Racing to the boat, Morven was calling out the orders to set sail before he even set foot on the gangplank. The new crew, a shade truer than the latter crew, obeyed, and the Merrow Wind was sailing in minutes. Alyx watched Hawker’s Mooring fade into the distance with a sigh at her near escape.

“So it’s the Seelie after you.” Morven stated from behind her and she whirled to face him. “What did you do to them?”

Alyx gave him a scowl. “Nothing.”

“What did they do to you, then?”

“Plenty of things, but nothing as bad as what they _want_ to do to me.” Alyx’s eyes glinted as she added. “I’m going back… someday.”

“Revenge is never a good bet, lass.”

“It’s not revenge. It’s liberation.” Alyx stated and stalked away to the galley to prepare dinner.

Morven shook his head and strode to his quarters, only to find Quigli waiting for him and drinking his rum. Morven frowned. “What now, dwarf? Ran out of yer own stash already?”

“Who’s the elf?” Quigli asked and took a swig.

“What happened to the Goblin Prince?” Morven countered, snatching the bottle away and taking a healthy swig himself.

Quigli snorted. “They say King Jareth gave the order and that the lad was banished over a woman. He stabbed Prince Ramsden of the Grasslands in a brawl over her at the All Hallow’s celebration… Nearly killed ‘im. High up folks are whisperin’ that the Goblin Prince was tryin’ to take her to Mab, but the fairy folk say otherwise.”

“Oh?”

“They’s saying he was tryin’ to protect the girl. ‘Course it doesn’t matter now, ‘cause he’s banished with no magic and Mab has him.” Quigli chewed on the end of his pipe. “She’s cursed him, they say.”

“Cursed, you say?”

“Ayup, and a mighty ancient one too. She’s been wantin’ him for her bed and now she has him. The poor lad. Me and ‘im had drinks once… At Gammon’s place in Goodfellow Glen. He was a good lad.”

“I never had the pleasure.” Morven replied. “Heard he was quite the troublemaker.”

“Pranks and the harmless like. Prince Jaron was a good man! I‘ve seen him do more for the fair folk than any of them snotty dukes or regents in the Courts! ” Quigli snorted. “And the elf?”

“He’s not an elf. He’s a Fae…And a girl.” Morven frowned. “Well, almost Fae.”

Quigli sputtered on his pipe. “Almost?! You mean she’s a mortal?”

“She’s been christened.”

“Sanctioned?” Quigli asked, gruffly.

Morven shook his head. “Quickie.”

With a groan, Quigli rubbed his chin. “How long, Morven?”

“Five years.”

“That’s bloody fantastic!” Quigli grumbled. “That’s the last thing we needed aboard our ship. Where the hell did you find her?”

“She stowed away in Lir. She says she wanted.”

Quigli raised an eyebrow and said. “Them Seelie were looking for a girl in Hawker’s Mooring, Morven.”

Morven nodded. “I heard. She seemed terrified when she saw them.”

Quigli moved to take back the bottle from Morven in silence, mulling the situation. He took a long drink and turned back to Morven. “They called her the Girl Who Wished Herself Away.”

Morven looked puzzled. “Who?”

“That girl that the Goblin Prince got himself banished over. The fairies like to call her the Girl Who Loves the Goblin Prince now.” Quigli sighed. “She was a mortal.”

Morven scoffed. “Can’t be the same girl.”

“Mortal’s are rare in these parts this day and age.” Quigli raised an eyebrow. “Things kinda fall that way of thinking, don’t they?”

Morven let out an agonized groan. “It can’t b-“

Quigli raised his hand to silence Morven. “Let’s stop the chatter. Unseelie also seek the Girl Who Wished Herself Away. Forget who the lass could be. Let her have her secrets if she can keep them.”

* * *

In all honesty, his first escape attempt did not go well. After bashing Morgan and stealing her keys, Jaron stealthily made his way through the dark dungeons, avoiding the orc guards, unaware he left a trail of bloody footprints along the stone floors. As he made his way towards the last turn that would lead him to the staircase out of the dungeons, Harkin and a small league of orcs rounded the corner. Sliding to a stop, Jaron snarled as Harkin drew his sword. He began to back up slowly and collided into the hard body of a hairy and tusked troll that had followed his bloody footprints. Jaron jerked away from the foul creature, but it reached out with its large hand and grabbed him by the hair. Grunting in pain as the troll lifted him, Jaron struggled to free himself, kicking and striking the troll. Harkin approached, and held his blade against Jaron’s throat to still him. Morgan approached out of the darkness, blood matted in her hair at one side.

“How did he escape, witch?” Harkin hissed.

“I slipped on his blood and cracked my bloody skull!” Morgan snarled gesturing to her bloodied head. “Your foolish orcs didn’t clean up after their fun and when I took him from the Maiden, I fell! Little rat, likely stole my keys after that!” 

Jaron watched Morgan carefully, realizing she was lying in an attempt to lessen his punishment. Harkin turned to glare at the Goblin Prince, knowing the witch was lying to him.

“Hurgo, take him and give him fifteen lashes, with the iron-tipped whips. Teach this slave his place.” Harkin ordered the troll.

The troll grunted and dragged a fighting Jaron away. Harkin turned back to Morgan, his eyes narrowed.

“Why do you lie for him, witch?”

Morgan scoffed. “Why do you call me a liar, Harkin?”

“Because you are!” Harkin snarled and got into her face. “Your lies won’t save him forever!”

“Oh?” Morgan raised her chin and a hard glint came to her violet eyes. She raised one finger and tapped Harkin upon the skull. “I name you the Pied Piper of Magesblood. May the rats _flock_ to you!”

With that she strode away and out of the dungeons. Harkin growled out a low string of curses in Orcish. About that time he felt something brush against his booted foot. Looking down, he nearly blanched when he saw the small horde of rats that had gathered at his feet.

“Damned she-witch!!”

* * *

Winter came to the Labyrinth and with the cold returned the Dowager Goblin Queen and her husband. After her demands that Sarah not be sent back Aboveground, Jiera had returned to her quarters at Merial, speaking to no one. Jorall, not wishing to see his Queen waste away in her despair, demanded that she return to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City with him. He knew that home would be the best place for her. The day they returned was when the first snow began to fall. Slowly, Jiera began to heal under her husband’s watchful eye in the north tower. 

She still would not speak to her remaining son. 

Although, somehow, and Sarah wasn’t sure exactly how, she and Jareth had managed to flourish upon their return to the Goblin City. Though the combination of running a kingdom, searching for Alyx, and finding a way to save his brother took up much of his time, they still spent many hours together. Everyday, they had at least one meal together and a leisurely walk after such meal. When they walked, they talked, and Sarah learned a lot about the Goblin King. 

She learned that he loved to read, but found little time to indulge in a good book, what with being King of Goblins and all. She also learned that he could juggle, something he had taught himself to do at a young age, and he could dislocate his thumbs, which was really gross to actually watch him do. He also told her how he hated lettuce, but loved cabbage and how, once, when he was young, he managed to break every marble bust in the entire Grand Palace at Merial with one miscast spell. He told her stories of his youth and all about his first few years as king, including the time he managed to cause every chicken in the Goblin City to loose its feathers with one misspoken charm. Sarah hung on his every word, growing more and more interested in him every time they spoke. Of course, not all of their conversations were about him. Jareth was learning more and more about his mortal every time they were together. He had promised that after the holiday season, he would take her back Aboveground so she could tell her family what had happened to her. He had assured her that time moved much differently in the Underground than Above, so she had little clue how much time had passed Aboveground since she and Alyx had went missing.

Then there was her newest pet. She named the baby gryphon Ashe, after Bruce Campbell’s character in her favorite B horror movie, The Evil Dead. After a combination of the study of her books and firsthand experience, she learned that Ashe would steal anything gold to hide in his bed, liked to eat raw meat and playing with balls of string. It was amazing how fast the creature was growing! By the time the snows fell, he was already bigger than Ambrosius. It would not be much longer and Ashe would be able to fly. The gryphon already seemed to read her thoughts, knowing if she was happy or sad and how to comfort her. Jareth had told her that Ashe would be a source of great protection for her in the future. Even the books had chronicled how fiercely loyal gryphons were to whomever they considered family. He rarely left her side.

Yet, Sarah could not help but start to feel a little like a bird in a gilded cage. No matter where she went in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, there was someone following and ‘guarding’ over her. It was starting to annoy her. Yesterday it had been Jora stalking her about the castle and appearing from nowhere to surprise her. The day before that, it had been Didymus following her about her every move. Today it was a little goblin servant who was not very good at keeping secrets.

“Lupee, why are you following me around?” Sarah asked after he tumbled into her skirts for the fifth time in ten minutes. This time he had to untangle the spines on his helmet from the lace. Ashe watched the clumsy creature with bright curiosity and batted at him until Sarah stopped him.

“King’s orders.” Lupee peeked around her leg after freeing himself. “King say, I should watch you, Lady, and follow you and make sure you no run away.”

“He did, did he?”

Lupee nodded, nearly loosing his hat. “He did.”

Sarah frowned. Why on earth was he worried about her running away? She gave an agitated huff when she realized that he had likely been snooping about when she was discussing searching for Alyx with Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus. The group had made tentative plans to search for the missing mortal, but Hoggle refused to let her go anywhere outside of the Labyrinth without a christening. Besides, why would she want to run away? Life with Jareth was growing more interesting with every passing day. Ashe noticed her change in mood and rubbed against her aside, affectionately. Reaching down, she scratched behind one of his large ears.

She gave Lupee an irritated look. “This is ridiculous.”

The goblin nodded solemnly, willing to agree with the Lady any day. “Yes.”

“Of all the idiotic, foolish, moronic, half-baked-“ Sarah fumed.

Jora appeared before them in a burst of glitter and smiled brightly. “Hello Sarah!”

“He’s having me followed!” Sarah spat out. “You’re all stalking me for him!”

Jora feigned confusion as she knelt to pet Ashe, fondly. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! I know what you are up to.” Sarah huffed, frustrated. “I have no intentions of running away.”

“Oh, is that all you’re fretting about?” Jora wrinkled her nose in amusement and scratched under Ashe’s beak. “Of course, he’s worried about you running off after Alyx.”

“Doesn’t he trust me?”

“Of course he does.” Jora replied as she rose and took the mortal by the arm. “He’s just frightened that you’re going to take off before he can talk you into becoming Fae. It’s quite dangerous for a mortal to go traipsing about the Underground, you know.”

“I know tha- What?” Sarah stopped and stared, blankly, at her friend. “He really wants me to become Fae?”

“Of course he does!” Jora replied, giving the mortal a small smile. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “A christening?”

“Did you honestly think that Jareth would let you get away from him again?” Jora chuckled and patted her hand.

Jora’s voice faded into the background as Sarah realized the importance of her words. Jareth truly meant for them to be together forever if he was even think of christening her Fae. That would mean giving up _everything_ in her life in the Aboveground. She hadn’t really gone as far as to think about becoming Fae. For the last few months she had been living in the moment and giving little thought to her future in the Underground. She also knew that her future here would involve her being a Queen. She wasn’t ready to be a Queen yet and had no clue where to begin.

* * *

With the new crew also came a new cook, so Alyx was set as Krollin’s full-time assistant after Hawker’s Mooring. Quigli had even taken a rare liking to the girl. The small and funny dwarf hailed from the Enchanted Forest at Allerleirauh, but had spent the last fifty years sailing with Morven and Krollin. In their spare time he told her stories of the forests in the times when Allerleirauh was still the seat to the Forest Throne and then he taught her how to heal. She watched him sew shut wounds and splint bones as well as treat burns. He also taught her of the many healing and killing herbs of the Underground.

The transformation in Alyx was apparent as they Fae magic began to take its hold. Her normally fair skin never burned in the hot sun and she began to find her own grace and agility. She learned quickly those skills she would need to survive once she was on her own in the Underground. Skills that would keep her alive and help her find Jaron someday. The Goblin Prince was on her mind often after her near escape in Hawker’s Mooring and Quigli’s news of the fairy folk’s reaction to his banishment. She wished he was with her on this journey. The days aboard the ship blended into weeks and soon they had passed Nevan’s dangerous Seelie guarded seas and neared the Genkis. Alyx was seated on the deck, sewing a patch upon a pair of pants when she saw the storm clouds in the distance, moving rapidly towards them. Quigli, high above in his crow’s nest, let out a piercing whistle.

“It’s a rogue squall!!” He hollered, tying on his own life-line. “ROGUE SQUALL!!!”

Morven’s head snapped up from where he studied the maps near the helm of the ship. His eyes widened at the approaching storm. “All hands on deck! Attach your lifelines and get those sails down!”

Alyx was nearly mowed down as the crew rushed on deck, obeying as Morven and Krollin barked out orders. She looked about, wildly, as the storm closed in and rain began to pelt them. The sky darkened and the winds began to howl. Krollin rushed to her, tying a line around her middle in a sturdy knot, and then to the main mast of the ship with the others.

“Stay here at the mast.” He ordered and left her.

Alyx wiped the rain water from her face as the crew fought to keep the Merrow Wind afloat in the fierce storm. Morven took the wheel, trying his best to steer in the wild waves and swells that slammed into the ship. In the crashes of lighting, Alyx saw him, struggling with the wheel. It jerked from his hands wildly, throwing the Captain back as the ship dipped in the waves. She rushed up the steps and caught the spinning wheel, nearly dislocating one shoulder in the process. Fighting the scream of pain in her throat, she grimaced. Planting her feet, she fought to turn the wheel back. Morven, suddenly, was at her side, helping her turn the wheel, and control the ship again.

“Check the lifelines!” Morven ordered and took control of the wheel. He gave a snarl against the storm. “I’ll handle this beast!”

“Aye Cap’n!” Alyx nodded and raced away to the mast, checking the lifelines. She looked out into the swirling rain and her eyes went wide as she saw the mountain of water preparing to broadside the ship. Up in the sails was Krollin and his lifeline was whipping about in the wind, un-tethered. Before the wave struck, she lunged for his rope.

The wall of water slammed into the Merrow Wind, throwing her across the deck and slamming her into the ship’s railing. Krollin’s lifeline raced through her fingers, burning the flesh of her palms. Screaming in pain, she tightened her grip and it jerked her arms, hard. She gasped for breath as she fought to get to her feet. The ship resurfaced from the wave and she shook the water from her face. Bracing one foot on the railing for leverage, she began to pull Krollin’s lifeline in. She pulled, despite the burning pain in her raw and bloody hands. Out over the waves she saw the elf desperately trying to stay above water. He saw her reeling him in and began to pull himself towards her and the ship.

Alyx cried out in pain as the ropes tugged at her already sore arms. Feeling a burning pain in one arm, she gasped as it went limp. She had dislocated her already injured shoulder. Stamping her boot down upon the rope, she used the combined power of her weight and remaining strength to hold onto the rope. Krollin reached the side of the lurching ship, and began to climb the rope to get onboard. Tears came to Alyx’s eyes as the boat shifted again, and Krollin’s weight swayed beneath her. He struggled on until he reached the railing of the ship and Alyx used her good arm to help drag him aboard. The pair collapsed to the deck, gasping and coughing up salt water. Krollin quickly turned to help the bloodied girl to her feet. He gave her a rare smile.

“Thanks, lass, now let’s get me tied up so ya don’t have to be doing that again!”

Alyx nodded, wearily, and the pair made their way back to the mast. She staggered along with him as he moved to retie his line before another swell overtook the ship. He turned back to her to support the girl as another great wave crashed over the deck, slamming Alyx against the mast. Her head struck, hard, upon the wood and her world went black. She swam in the dark waters.

* * *

When she awoke, her cheek rested against cool, wet stone, and somewhere she could hear the steady drip of water. The air was moist and damp, making it hard for her to breath. It was cold, very cold. Alyx opened her eyes, slowly, taking in her new surroundings. A dungeon. Okay. She was in a dungeon. Carefully, she pushed herself up from the stone floor, scanning for anyone else around her.

She was alone.

There was a circular pool of dark water a few paces ahead of her with rusted chains hanging in the water. On the other side of the dark pool were five tunnels, each leading away in a different direction and lit by glowing torches. Shaking, slightly she took in her surroundings. She saw she was near a crumbling stone wall that once had been a cell. Against her better judgment, she took a few uneasy steps towards the pool.

The waters were black and still. From above there was a great clattering sound and the chains began to move. Alyx gasped and ducked backwards, scrambling to hide behind the crumbled wall. Peeking back around, her eyes widened as she saw what the chains drew from the waters. It was a man, his wrists bound above him, forcing him to hang from his arms. When his dark head broke the surface, he drew a sharp breath, gasping and coughing up the putrid water. His back was to her and she could see fresh wounds upon his skin where, recently, someone had taken a whip to him. Heavy boots echoed in the dungeons and an orc guard stepped forth to study the prisoner. He prodded the gasping man with his mace and sneered. The prisoner turned his head to glare at the orc and Alyx’s breath caught in her throat. It was Jaron. Her Goblin Prince.

“That all you got?” Jaron asked the orc through a mouthful of blood and spat an arc of blood at the guard, splattering the creature in the face.

The orc snarled and swung his mace at Jaron, hard. It connected with the Goblin Prince’s lower back and he jerked in pain. Calling out an order, the orc made them drop Jaron back into the pool. Alyx closed her eyes, praying it was only a dream, and she drifted back away into dark waters.

* * *

After finally shaking both Lupee and Jora, Sarah headed for Jareth’s throne room with Ashe close on her heels. She was hoping to find the Goblin King and have a few choice words with him about stalking and love. She barged into the throne room and put her hands upon her hips in the most menacing fashion she could muster, the gryphon at her side making the image menacing enough that several of the more sober goblins took notice and began to nudge others into attention.

“You’ve been having me followed!” Sarah spat out, angrily.

Jareth blinked at her from where he had been lecturing a small, former cannon-ball goblin, named Dubbie, on why chickens were best not used as bowling balls in the throne room, before she had barged inside in a fit of hellfire and brimstone. He quirked one eyebrow as he realized how absolutely fetching she was when she was angry and frowned when he saw that wretched winged rat at her side. He and Ashe held little love for one another on the best of days.

After a long thought process, he decided that the truth was the best way to resolve this matter and replied. “Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

Jareth looked down at the small goblin at his feet. “Dubbie, perhaps our talk is best concluded another time. Remember what I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah! No rollin’ the chickens!” The tiny dim-witted goblin gave him a thumb’s up and Jareth nearly blanched. “Okay, Kingy.”

The goblin scuttled on and Jareth watched, his face a mask of disgust. “There was once a time when they feared me, but now they give me those silly Aboveground hand gestures like I am their friend! You and your friends have ruined them…”

Ignoring him, Sarah charged to his side at the throne and pointed a menacing finger in his face. “Call off the tag-alongs! Lupee nearly tripped me on the steps six times today and Jora damn near gave me a heart attack in the Great Hall after lunch!”

Jareth frowned as she wagged her finger in his face. “You do realize I’m King-“

“Stop having me followed! Remember the talk about being ‘creepy’ we had? Having me followed definitely falls under the definition of creepy.”

“Then you call off that winged menace.” Jareth countered. “The little beast tried to attack me twice last night.”

Ashe gave him a warning hiss and Jareth hissed back.

“You were skulking around my balcony in your owl form, Jareth.” Sarah remarked, dryly. “Ashe has the same views on ‘creepiness’ that I do.”

“You should have allowed me to Bog the infernal creature after he urinated on my hand-woven silk rug from Fin Bheara.”

“You scared him.”

“That was a priceless and beautiful rug.”

“It was hideous and you hated that thing!” Sarah took a deep breath and started again, calmer. “Call off the stalkers, Jareth. I’m not going to go running off into the Underground after Alyx. _We’ll_ find her… _Together_. Until then, I intend on staying here… With you.”

Jareth opened his mouth to retort and Sarah was suddenly in his arms, kissing him. He did the only sensible thing and kissed her back. As he enveloped her in his arms, his mouth burned, slowly, over hers, and she moaned against him. Melting in his arms, she slowly began to forget the reasons why she came to speak with him in the first place. It couldn’t be as important as what he was doing with his tongue at the present time. Her hands moved up to tangle in his silken hair as their kiss deepened.

Breathing raggedly, Jareth broke the kiss, cupping her cheeks in his palms. “I just want you to stay with me, love.”

Sarah eyes widened as she remembered the other issue that she had wanted to bring up to him. Her hands covered his. “Jora told me that you wanted me to become Fae.”

He froze and cursed under his breath. “She never could keep her damn mouth shut.”

“You realize that’s a really big decision for me, right?” Sarah asked, softly. “Me becoming Fae is a forever kinda deal. Do you really want me around forever?”

“Did you know that I haven’t threatened to Bog one single goblin today?” Jareth replied.

“What does that have-“

He gave her a smile and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You have changed me for the better, precious. How much do you think you could change me in an eternity?”

Sarah eyes widened and then she gave a small huff. “Well, then I’m warning you now… I’m incredibly stubborn, it’s best to just let me win at card games, and sometimes I snore. Right now is your last chance to back out, buddy.”

Jareth just stared at her, blinking in amazement before he uttered. “I love you.”

Sarah felt her heart leap into her throat and she gave him a warm smile. “Say it one more time.”

He tugged her closer to him with a seductive grin, and tilted her chin up to kissing level. “I love you.”

“Again?” She asked, and he laughed, heartily.

“I love you, Sarah Lenora Williams.” Jareth repeated, nearly whispering across her lips.

Sarah sighed, happily. “And I love you, Jar-“

He then crushed his mouth down on hers again, dipping her across his throne. The pair became lost in one another, both overjoyed for the love that swelled between then. That’s when the sniffling and sobbing started and Sarah broke the kiss, confused. Her eyes widened as she peeked around Jareth.

That’s about the time the applause began. Jareth spun around and groaned when he saw, what seemed to be, every inhabitant of the Goblin City watching him and Sarah’s every move. Many of the dull-witted creatures had been reduced to tears and were sobbing into their cups of ale. Others were clapping and, _heavens help him_… Some were cheering.

“Go King!”

“I love this show.”

“Lady gonna marry the King!”

“Yeah King!”

“I love happy endings.”

“It already over?” 

“Again! Again!”  
Jareth roared. “You insolent, sniveling, and sneaking little parade of ale-soaked miscreants!! The lot of you had better vacate my castle for the remainder of the evening! I had better not see even one crooked nose or bowed leg before dawn or else I shall be tempted to throw the whole lot of you miserable little cretins into the Bog of Eternal Stench!!!” 

Sarah blinked and the throne room had emptied, save the occasional spinning tankard of ale or floating chicken feather. She gave Jareth a gentle shove. “You didn’t have to be that hard on them, Jareth.”

“True, but now we have the castle to ourselves for the evening without those little twerps underfoot.” Jareth replied, rather smugly, as he drew her back into his arms. 

“What about your family?” Sarah asked and jerked her head towards the doors. “Jora’s probably hanging outside the door right now, listening in on this.”

“Then we shall go somewhere more private.” He smirked and in an instant they were in his private baths. Sarah gasped as they were both submerged in warm water, still clothed. His private baths were built of solid black marble, with the tub sunk into the floor in the middle of the room. Jareth cast one had over his body, vanishing his sopping clothes. Resting his arms against the back of the tub, he sighed, happily.

“Jareth!” Sarah gasped. “I still have my clothes on!”

He arched one eyebrow at her. “Shall I remedy that?”

She blushed, furiously. “No!”

Sarah moved to scramble from the tub, struggling to move in her wet dress. As she moved for the door, she froze at Jareth’s words.

“How is it that my brother managed to win his mortal in less than two weeks time and I _still_ struggle?”

Spinning to face the smirking Goblin King, she frowned. “Perhaps you have not employed the right tactics?”

“Oh?” Jareth rose to stand in the tub, water running down his lean and now very nude frame. The liquid sluiced from his body as he rose, leaving his lower half still submerged in the waters. Sarah’s eyes widened. He leaned forward, bracing himself up against the edge of the tub with a sly smile. “What tactics must I employ, madam?”

For the first time in her young life, Sarah Williams was struck speechless, and stared, open-mouthed, at the Goblin King. She blurted. “Are you freakin’ _serious_?!”

Jareth seemed a little insulted as he put his hands on his hips. “Of course, I am bloody serious. Wh-“

At those few words, Sarah nearly tackled him back into the tub, locking her lips with his. Giving a grunt of surprise, he caught her, melding her body to his own. Tongues danced across one another in that age old rhythm and her arms wrapped around his neck.

Jareth chuckled, low. “Now I see why my brother was such a big fan of spoiling maidens… It is _quite_ fun.”

“Shut up. You’re ruining the moment.” Sarah grumbled between kisses and his hands slid along the slick fabric of her gown.

“Bloody dress…” He grumbled back and suddenly they were skin to skin. Sarah gasped and gave him a small glare. He gave her a guilt-free grin and pulled her lips back down to his for another deep kiss.

* * *

Sunlight streamed down on Alyx’s face as she awoke from her fitful slumber of nightmares of dark waters. Remembering the storm, she sat up, sharply, with a cry of pain at her wounded ribs. A gentle hand pressed against her good shoulder, resting her back into the beddings. She looked around and found she was in Morven’s quarters. Quigli stood above her on a stool, looking worried.

“Easy. Yer pretty banged up, kiddo.” Quigli ordered.

She groaned. “I feel like I’ve just wrestled a gaggle of trolls and lost.”

“You look like it too. You’ve been out for three days. Had me kinda worried for awhile.” Quigli checked her head bandage and gave her a look. “Do ya remember us relocatin’ your shoulder after the storm?”

She shook her head. “No. Last thing I remember was pulling Krollin in.”

Quigli chuckled. “Screamed like a banshee and fought like a wildcat, you did. Called us every name under the sun and screamed some bloke’s name, all the while beating us about our heads.”

Alyx tensed. “Who did I call for?”

“Erin or somethin’ of that sort. You was talkin’ out of your head the whole time you slept. Couldn’t make any sense outta what you were blabberin’.” Quigli lied and pressed, lightly, on her ribs in a few spots. “Got a few bruised ribs and a bump on the head as well. Lucky to be alive, you are.”

“Is Krollin okay?” Alyx asked, worried about the elf.

“Aye. He’s just been worried about you. Been tellin’ one and all the tale of how you saved his life.” Quigli snorted. “Making a legend out of ya before your time if you ask me…”

Morven and Krollin entered the quarters and both rushed to the bedside when they saw she was awake. Morven sat on the edge of the bed with a smile as Quigli helped the girl to sit up.

He confessed. “Good to see you awake, kid.”

“It’s good to be awake.” Alyx confessed as Quigli arranged the pillows behind her back. 

Krollin grasped her hand and kissed it, happily. “I thank you, lass! You saved my skin out there.”

She blushed. “It was nothing.”

“Such heroics need rewarding.” Krollin dug in his jacket and produced a small book. “Here!”

Alyx raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Might find it useful since you’re so new ‘round these parts.” Krollin replied. “Most our youngsters grow up with one o’ them at one point or another.”

Alyx studied the small and worn hardcover book. The cover was a dark blue and emblazoned on the cover was the title; The Underground, by Wyntr le Fey in gold letters.

“That book there will tell you just ‘bout anythin’ you wanna know about the Underground.” Krollin beamed.

“It’s kinda a small book to have everyt-“ She flipped it open and frowned. “Hey, the pages are blank!”

Morven chuckled. “You really are new here, aren’t you?” 

She puffed up, getting a little defensive. “I’m not all that familiar with your literature here.”

“It’s an _enchanted_ book. Let me show you.” He held a hand out for the book and she relinquished it to him. He opened it and looked down at the pages. “The Genkis.”

Alyx watched in wonder as words began to write themselves upon the page and beautiful illustrations sketched themselves. He held the now filled book to her. She bent her head and began to read out loud. “The Genkis are a small island chain in the north-west Emerald Sea. The Genkis are known for its fierce race of warrior elves. Most of the Genki tribes never get over five feet and seven inches, but they are known for their ferocity in battle and bad tempers.”

She looked back up to the men. “And if I close it and open it again?”

“Just tell it what you want to know about. It’ll give it to you.” Morven explained.

“Figured it would prove useful for you.” Krollin shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Thank you.” Alyx said, running her fingers over the words. “It’s a wonderful gift.”

Morven patted her leg. “No problem, kid. Rest up. We’ll reach the Genkis in a few days.”

Further proving the Fae magic inside her was growing stronger Alyx was out of bed and moving about that very afternoon. Even if she was moving about a bit stiffly. She took her book and went above deck to sit in the sun and read. After she had read about the Emerald Sea and its many islands, she looked about to see who was around her. Spying no one, she leaned in close to the book.

“The Goblin Prince.” She whispered and opened the book. Slowly, the words began to write themselves upon the page and a portrait of the young and smirking prince sketched its self.

She trailed her finger along the words, speaking them under her breath. “The Goblin Prince one of the many titles bestowed upon Prince Jaron Armande Sindhe, second in line to the Goblin Throne of the Labyrinth under King Jareth Antares Sindhe, thirteenth in line to the High throne, first in line to the former Forest Court. The Prince is known for his mischievous nature and is often referred as akin to a brownie or sprite. Other informal titles such as the Friend of Fairies or Fairy Friend have been bestowed upon him by the lesser Fae because of the time he spends with them rather than in the Golden Court. Half mortal, he is also known as the Halfling Prince, and the first born in either Court in centuries.”

The book delved lightly into his childhood and ancestry before coming again to a part she had to read twice to make sure of what she saw.

“Prince Jaron has been, recently, banished from the Seelie Court by the Goblin King and High King Oberon for the attempted murder of Prince Ramsden Caelen Caradoc of the Austral Grasslands. Prince Jaron insisted he was trying to protect The Girl Who Wished Herself Away. He is now a slave to the Queen of Air and Darkness, Mab Nightshayde, and has been stripped of all titles and magic.”

Alyx’s hands began to shake as she read. She closed the book and said, bitterly. “The Girl Who Wished Herself Away.”

When she opened the book a small sketch appeared first. It was of Alyx’s back as she sat at window, looking out over the Labyrinth. A small paragraph appeared and Alyx read it, softly. “The Girl Who Wished Herself Away is a mysterious subject. Little is known except that she is the first mortal to not wish away a child to the Goblin King, but herself. Her whereabouts are unknown since the banishment of the Goblin Prince.”

Alyx closed the book again and stared out over the sea, hugging it to her chest. It was her fault Jaron was in so much trouble. She would find Jaron and save him someday. She promised herself that. She’s do whatever it took to make sure he was safe again and make things right.

* * *

As he had always found, it was best to lie low. That was what Roland had tried to keep reminding himself since Jaron’s banishment. If people knew who you were, then they asked too many questions that you didn’t have answers for or asked questions you refused to give answers for. So, it was better if you avoided people that would ask such questions. Making a rather wise decision, he and Trog stayed safely hidden amongst their friends of the Underground. For a time they hid in Tir Asleen with the young Empress Elora Danan and her consort Hastin. Then they drifted to the south to Honah Lee to stay until even Puff the Magic Dragon’s great presence could not shield them from the gossips who flocked there. After learning that a now healed Ramsden had left Bethmoora and went back to Court in Merial, the pair headed for the Grassland city, for their close friend, Prince Annibal, to keep them. Even then, they were not safe from the Courts.

If there were two places to hide and stay hidden in the Underground, one would be out in the Emerald Sea amongst the many islands and the other was the Enchanted Wood. Trog, after growing weary of the Court’s influence in Bethmoora, suggested that the pair go deep into the Wood and disappear. They stayed near the no-named hamlets and within the circle of the trusty fairy folk. It was then that they began concreting their plans to rescue their friend and cousin. As Roland learned, many who were quick to miss him, but few brave enough to face Mab’s wrath. The few brave enough to enter the spider’s den after him already, never came home again. Roland knew there was one girl brave enough out there, so he often found his way into towns with a local Bone Carver’s Guild, hoping Alyx would resurface and come to find him.

The Highland Prince grew a beard and became shaggy and unkempt. He let his clothing become stained and threadbare, only changing if the object became unusable to him. He resembled nothing like the royalty that he was. All in all, that suited Roland just fine, because the less he was recognized the less questions were asked of him. Though they drifted through the Underground together, he and Trog began to drift apart. The old friends laughed little and spoke even less. The small fairy had been crushed by Jaron’s banishment. It was much better for her explosive mouth to be as far away from the Courts as possible. Especially after the last time they were in Merial and Trog tore out a chunk of Jareth’s hair. If the lightning bolt that flew from Jareth’s fingers had hit her, she would have been one fried little brownie, but somehow she managed to avoid it and escape.

Roland knew that she was growing restless without her partner in crime. It would only be a matter of time before she left him for a suicide mission to try to free Jaron. Roland could only hope that she didn’t get herself killed.

Roland Childe Amarantha, Prince of Banshees and Lord of the Highlands, stumbled his way into a small town in the Enchanted Wood called Wesh. Then he practically fell through the door of a little tavern called the Oaken Ladle. It was there, in the caring arms of Lulla-Belle, the dryad barmaid, he remained for quite a long time.

* * *

Quigli sat up in the crow’s next, puffing on his pipe in the sun. Alyx was across from him, reading from her book. He picked up his spyglass and peered off across the waves, giving a snort as he did so.

“What’re you readin’ about now?” Quigli asked, adjusting his spyglass.

“Dragons.” Alyx didn’t even look up from the book. “Did you know that all dragon’s have a cave or lair where they hide their treasures and will relentlessly hunt down anyone who takes even one single gold coin?”

He snorted. “Right selfish lot them dragon’s are.”

“This also says a fire breather’s fire can turn sand into glass almost instantly.” She traced her finger along the words. “And some of the of venomous dragons are so powerful they can kill you in less than a minute.”

“Ya don’t say?” Quigli let out a piercing whistle and she almost dropped her book in surprise. “LAND HO! Come see the Genkis, kid.”

Alyx scrambled to her feet and he handed her his spyglass with a smile. She looked out and saw a lush green series of islands ahead. She lowered the glass and felt her heart drop as well. Along with their arrival in the Genkis would come her own departure and she would be alone again.

Quigli clapped his hands together in glee. “Ah, I love the Genkis. It’s me favorite place to dock! Where will you go next, kid?”

She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Maybe Nidavellir in the Dragon Spine Mountains… Maybe I could mine for some jewels.”

Quigli snorted. “Good luck getting anythin’ out of them selfish bastards. The dwarves of Nidavellir are the most self-seeking fools I’ve ever seen. You’d better go an’ get yer things together, kid.”

Alyx nodded and began to climb down to the deck. Going to the room she shared with Krollin she was surprised to find the steward there, packing his things as well. He gave her a smile.

“Thought we’d never be home.” Krollin said. “Where will you go now?”

Alyx shrugged as she gathered her meager possessions into her bag. “Maybe to Tir Asleen. I just read about it in my book today and it sounds beautiful.”

He nodded. “Aye and you’d crossin’ Darkwood Copse by yerself as well?”

Alyx puffed up a little. “I can take care of myself, Krollin.”

“Aye, I’ve seen that, but that’s a long journey to make all by one’s lonesome.” Krollin sat his packed bag by the door. “I wish you luck then, Alyx. Whatever your travels may be.”

“You too.” Alyx gave him a false smile as he left the room. She threw the strap of her bag over one shoulder and headed for the deck of the ship. As she crossed to watch as they approached the port, Morven came to fall into stride next to her, smiling happily.

“This is the end of the voyage, Aneurin. Where will you go?” Morven asked.

“I was thinking about going to Piran.” She lied. “I’ve never seen the mountains.”

“Or the harpies there.” Morven grimaced. “Foul biddies! They’d tear you up and eat your gizzards.”

Alyx frowned. “I don’t have a gizzard.”

Morven shrugged it off. “Why not stay in the Genkis for awhile?”

“I may.” Alyx tried to seem nonchalant. “Could be a good place to hide out ‘til the heat’s off.”

Morven dug into his pocket and produced a small bag of coins. He thrust it into Alyx’s hand. “Take this.

She looked puzzled. “What is this for?”

“Wages for your work on the ship. You signed the articles, same as everybody else.” Morven gave her a cheery salute. “Good luck out there, kid.”

“Thanks.” Alyx tucked the money away with the rest of her gold and waited for the ship to dock. Once they reached port, the crew set to unloading the ship. Alyx walked, slowly, down the gangplank and away from the Merrow Wind. She adjusted her backpack as she studied the busy Genki port and feeling very alone. Take a few unsure steps, she nearly screamed when a hand was clapped upon her back.

“C’mon, lad, and celebrate with Quigli and me.” Krollin was at her side, a smile on his scarred face. “There’ll be plenty of good food and rum.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense!” Quigli barked as he came striding by and towards a small horse-drawn wagon. He clenched his pipe between his teeth as he hauled his small body onto the buckboard. “You need a place to stay and we’re offerin’!”

Sighing, happily, she let Krollin help her into the wagon. “Thank you… Both of you… I was so afraid of what to do next.”

“You need somebody to keep an eye out on ya!” Quigli remarked as he clucked to the pair of horses and began to make their way through the bustling port. “Most trouble I’ve ever seen following one person in all my years under Lady Danu’s embrace!” 

“’Sides we’ve got a few more things to teach you ‘fore we’ll be ready to set you loose on the world!” Krollin chuckled. “You’ll need a lot more than a few weeks on the sea to get by in this place.”

“What about Morven?” Alyx asked, turning to look back at the Merrow Wind.

“Oh, let ‘im be!” Quigli snorted. “That damned fool’s going inland. We won’t see him for at least three months, I’ll wager!”

“Three months?” Alyx asked.

“He’ll likely get himself cursed or hexed or bespelled…” Krollin replied as he relaxed in the back of the wagon. “Then he’ll have to swindle his way into a cure.”

As they made their way through the streets Alyx studied the elves of the Genkis. The Genki were a small, yet fierce race of warrior elves. Very few were taller than her, but all were armed with at least a sword or dagger. Even their women and children, strode about with weapons on their hips.

“The Genki are a fierce race.” Krollin said, proudly, as he noticed her studying his people. “That is why most men go into pirating and let the women fight the wars.”

“Would be a good guise.” Quigli mused, absently.

Alyx nodded, slowly, realizing how much she resembled a Genki elf. “Do the Seelie Guard come here?”

“Not often. Us elves run our own island.” Krollin chewed on a piece of straw at the back of the wagon and smirked. “They’re afraid of us folks.”

Alyx chuckled and resumed studying the scenery as they left the town and drove through the countryside. Everywhere she looked was overflowing with tropical foliage. She was astounded at how beautiful the Genki Islands were. Everywhere she looked it was fresh, green, and abundant with life. After a long wagon ride over the many bridges connecting the small island chain, the trio reached a beautiful lagoon. In the cove was the home that Krollin had built. His home was built of a combination of stilts, docks, and, as Alyx suspected, a heavy dose of magic, so that his house sat above and over the green waters of the shimmering lagoon.

Her jaw dropped as she stared at the paradise that Krollin called home. “This is like Hawaii times a million!”

“I don’t know what a ‘Hawaii’ is, but thanks, kid.” Krollin laughed and clapped her on the back, heartily. “Tonight, I shall cook us a feast and we’ll celebrate another fantastic season on the sea.”

That evening as they sat around their bonfire, drinking rum and digesting their dinners, Quigli produced a rough guitar and Alyx began to strum tune for them. Krollin went to his room and returned with a small bag of cigarette makings. He hurried to rolling one. Quigli gave a small snort and laughed from his perch.

“Fire grass, eh? Be easy on the lass. She’s only just got here, Krollin.” Quigli chortled at his own joke.

Alyx gave the men a puzzled look from the hammock she hung in as she strummed the guitar. “What’s fire grass?”

“Look it up.” Krolllin stated as he rolled the cigarette, deftly. “Read it to me.”

“Fine. Fire Grass.” Alyx reached over and flicked open the book. She read aloud as the words appeared. “Fire Grass is a wild herb that grows in the Dragon Wastes and is used often as a mild opiate or-“

Alyx slapped the book shut and gave both men an astounded look. “It’s a drug!”

“Aye, but a good one at that.” Quigli said as Krollin handed him the finished product, already lit. He chuckled after a long drag. “Just take a few puffs and stare at the stars, kiddo.”

Alyx accepted the offered cigarette and took a few leisurely puffs, before coughing fiercely. She handed it to Krollin with a grimace. “My lungs are on fire!”

“Aye, but you’ll feel better soon, lass.” Krollin replied, dreamily, the herb taking affect.

Alyx took a swig from the rum bottle and grimaced again. “Why did Morven go inland? I thought you told him things were bad there?”

“The job of a Cap’n is never done.” Quigli chuckled and toked on the cigarette. ‘Foolish ox…”

“He headed for Shade’s Coast.” Krollin explained, digging into the fire with a stick. “Don’t worry. He’ll be back in a few months or so. He does other business ‘sides pirating.”

“Oh…” Alyx took the cigarette from Quigli. “Then you’ll go back out on the Merrow Wind, I suppose?”

“Aye, providing he doesn’t get himself cursed… Again.” Quigli grumbled. “I’m throwing out the bet that he won’t be back for at least five months. He’ll end up jinxed or hexed after a bloody card game gone bad!”

“Or in a pub over some Fae’s wife.” Krollin added as Alyx took another, less cough-filled, puff.

“Or daughter.” Quigli snorted.

“Or _daughters_.” Krollin laughed, merrily. “Even so, a better man than Morven you’ll not find sailing these seas.”

“Aye.” Quigli stroked his beard and looked at Alyx. “You thinkin’ ‘bout sailin’ with us next season, kid?”

“Maybe…” Alyx blushed. “A little.”

“You’ve the makings for a first rate deck hand. Why not join us on the next season? Morven’ll probably want you back aboard as well.” Krollin offered. “A few character building seasons on the sea are good for anyone.”

“’The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.’ Isak Dinesen.” Alyx quoted, softy, and nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll stay on here with me and Quigli and we’ll teach you everythin’ you need to know.” Krollin raised his glass in a toast. “To the future and destinies, mates.”

The trio clinked glasses and remained by the fire in the growing darkness of the night.

* * *

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles inland, a weary figure crashed through the Forked River Swamplands. His bare feet sunk into the loose earth as he raced along the soggy ground. A long lone howl cried out over the swamps, making the runner freeze in his tracks, the wind whipping his torn clothing around them. One wide blue eye scanned the darkness as his breath came in ragged and uneven gasps. He began to run again. Stumbling over a root, he landed, waist deep in murky water. He shook his long, wet hair from his face and began to trudge through the swamp. Mud and muck clung to him like a second skin as he swatted vegetation out of his way. Broken fingers sunk into the mud of the banks, and ruined manacles hung from each wrist as he dragged his body free from the water. Staggering to his feet, he began to race across the less treacherous marshlands and southwards to The Mounds.

The Goblin Prince ran as if he was being chased by the devil.

He knew he was.

Though his lungs burned and his muscles ached, he ran on, reaching the foothills of the Mounds faster than anything on two feet. He gave a sigh of hope and began to climb the wooded knolls. No matter if he fell down or climbed down the hills, he kept moving, aware of the howls of the Sluagh behind him. He tore through the countryside like a wildfire, until he reached the far ridges of the Mounds. Stretched out beyond him was the Labyrinth in all her wondrous and curvaceous splendor. A weak smile played at his lips and he stumbled towards its outer walls, ignoring the approaching sounds of the Dark Court.

* * *

Deep within the Goblin City, Jareth awoke from his sleep with a great gasp. Sarah stirred beside him, but did not awaken. The Goblin King drew a shaky breath, and transported to the northern edge of his Labyrinth near the Mounds.

* * *

Jaron slammed into the outer wall of the Labyrinth, his badly damaged fingers trying to find a hold for him to scale the walls. He scrambled to climb, even as he heard his attackers approach. Sliding back down to the dirt with a frustrated groan, he turned to face Mab’s Chieftain of the Guard, Harkin, astride a nightmare. The ugly and scarred Chieftain gave him a smirk. Jaron stood his ground, a snarl upon his mangled face. The pair glared at one another for few steady seconds and then, with a wild scream, Jaron launched himself at the Fae. Dragging him from the horse, Jaron swung his clenched fist and hit Harkin in the face. He was quite happy to hear the crunch of bone. Slamming a fist full of dirt into the Goblin’s Prince’s eyes, Harkin used the opportunity to kick into Jaron’s stomach and throw him off. Jaron gasped for breath as Harkin gave the former prince a viscous sneer. The Unseelie made a gesture with one hand and thorny vines erupted from the ground, ensnaring Jaron in their piercing grip. He fought against the vines, but was only left bloodier for his efforts.

Harkin approached, spat out a mouthful of blood, and gave a low chuckle. “You gave us a good run, slave.”

Jaron stopped his struggles against the thorns piercing his skin and gave the Fae a mad grin. “Fight me fair and I’ll show you a good run!”

The vines tightened, causing Jaron to grunt in pain. Instead of becoming furious, his grin grew madder, and for one slight second Harkin faltered, fearing that the Goblin Prince had gone crazed like a mad dragon.

“Someday Harkin…“ Jaron hissed. “You’ll realize that you should have let me run.”

Harkin gathered him self and raised one hand to strike Jaron with. He froze and his dark eyes widened. Before him, trapped in the vines, was no longer the Goblin Prince, but a girl. Icy blue eyes glared from beneath tangled dark tresses as she clenched her fists in rage. Harkin blinked and went for his sword.

“Let him free, Harkin.” A stern voice ordered.

Harkin’s gaze went to the wall of the Labyrinth, where Jareth stood in his dark armor. Jareth glared down at them, furious for the way the Unseelie were treating his brother.

Harkin looked back to his captive to find that it was Jaron before him again. Harkin laughed, trying to ignore the earlier sight and addressed Jareth. “I am only recapturing a slave, Goblin King. ‘Tis no concern for you.”

Jareth did not falter. “He made it this far, Harkin. Let him free.”

“He’s a slave, King Jareth. If you wish to buy him you shall have to take it up with Queen Mab, but I think she shall refuse to part with her favorite _pet_.”

When he reached for Jaron, the Goblin Prince caught his eye and smirked. “Then you see her too? Eh, Harkin?”

Harkin snarled, and slapped Jaron, hard. Jaron slowly turned back to look at him, unfazed by the hit. A beautiful line of ruby red ran, slowly from one nose as Jaron began to laugh. Jareth’s breath caught as he heard his brother’s maddened laugh. Jaron then spat out a string of quite imaginative curses in Goblinese, involving Harkin’s mother and a warty troll before the Fae struck him again, knocking the prince to the ground. Jareth was there in an instant, grabbing Harkin’s wrist and narrowing his mismatched eyes.

“Release me, Goblin King.” Harkin ordered.

“I believe you have forgotten who is King here, _Lord_ Harkin. Release my brother.” Jareth snarled.

“He is not your property anymore!” Harkin jerked his wrist free and orc guards were at his side in an instant. “He belongs to _my_ Dark Queen.”

Jareth’s eyes stole to where his brother was lying face down in the dirt, breathing raggedly. Realizing that he could only do Jaron more harm than good, he backed away from Harkin with a frown. Harkin smirked and reached down to grab Jaron by the hair to pull the prince to his feet.

“Very good effort, slave, but you shall pay for such disobedience.” Harkin hissed in Jaron’s ear and then looked back up to the Goblin King. “For this, your brother shall dance in red-hot iron shoes at our Masque this night, King Jareth.”

Harkin’s laugh bellowed out and Jareth’s eyes went to his brother. Jaron smiled, weakly, and gave his brother a wink.

“Next time I’ll make it.”

Jareth then watched, helpless, as his brother was dragged behind Harkin’s nightmare towards Magesblood. Jareth cursed and returned to his chambers, where Sarah sat awake in their bed, wrapped in a satin sheet. She looked up at him, sadly, when he came to sit beside her. She reached out for his hand in the dim light.

“He almost made it over the wall.” Jareth said, hoarsely. “He was so very close.”

“He ran all the way from Magesblood?” Sarah’s grip tightened on his. She knew a little more about the topography of the Underground. It would be a long and hard trip through putrid swamps from Magesblood to the Labyrinth. “Through the swamps and everything?”

“Yes… We Sindhe are a stubborn and bull-headed lot.” Jareth spat out, angrily. “Damned fool!”

“He’ll make it next time.”

“If there is a next time. They may kill him before he can try again.”

Sarah cupped Jareth’s face in her hand and made him look at her. “There will be a next time. You’ll see.”

Jareth gave her a weak smile. “I am glad that you have enough faith for us both, precious.”


	4. All Legends Gotta Start Somewhere

_And the months flew by in the strange way that time often tended to move in the Underground…_

* * *

“You are such a coward.” Sarah poked the large gryphon in the wing. Ashe was sitting beside her on the balcony of her room with Ludo, Didymus, and Hoggle. She was wrapped in Allerleirauh’s catskin against the chill of the fall evening. Ashe gave her a pleading look and she shook her head. “Don’t start trying to use those sad eyes with me. You are a year old, you stand taller than me, and you must weigh as much as a Volkswagen… You really are quite ready to fly.”

Ashe snorted and shook his feathered head, violently.

“You know you’re supposed to be the lord of all mythical creatures, don’t ya?” Hoggle added and Ashe gave him a protesting screech.

“Oh, eagle and lion hearted my aching tush! Imagine! I find the _one_ gryphon in all the Underground who is afraid of heights!” Sarah huffed and hugged her knees to her chest.

Ashe fidgeted his wings and chattered, angrily.

“Perhaps he needs another gryphon to teach him to fly.” Didymus mused. “Isn’t there an old couple still living in Goodfellow Glen? Maybe-“

Giving a shrill screech, Ashe seemed to tell the small fox that he needed no teacher. He gave the group a smug smile and settled back into a resting position. His posture told them that he would fly when he was good and ready and not a moment sooner.

“You are a chicken and you know it! Don’t make me get Jorall up here to yell at you in eagle again.” Sarah threatened.

Ashe gave her a rather foul look. King Jorall’s bird form was that of a golden eagle and he had recently given the young gryphon a fierce speech about stealing golden trinkets from the girls of the castle.

“I’ll bet he could make you fly.” Sarah replied. “And if you were flying, we could be sneaking out at night to look for Alyx.”

Ashe managed to give her a rather droll look, as if to say, but what about your promise to Jareth.

“He’s not the boss of me.” Sarah huffed.

Ashe gave a screech that sound, suspiciously, like a laugh and it was Sarah’s turn to give him a foul look.

“This isn‘t about me, you great chicken! You should be the one flying and helping me find her!” Sarah waved one arm over the Labyrinth.

“Why are you so worried about Alyx anyways?” Hoggle asked, grumpily. “Seems like she could take care of herself, the way I saw it.”

“I have to go and find her.” Sarah replied, somberly. “I have no choice. If I hadn’t filled her head with crazy stories of this place, she never would have wished herself here in the first place. She’s my friend, Hoggle, and it seems that I’ve let her down at every turn.”

Ashe nudged her shoulder with his head, as if to say that it wasn’t her fault and she stroked his feathered head.

“I will follow thou to the ends of the earth, my lady.” Didymus bowed, his nose almost touching the floor. “I too owe a great debt to Lady Alyxandrea. If I had not been so careless in my guardian duties, none of this would have happened.”

“Oh… Listen to the lot of ya! We could all blame ourselves for what we did and didn’t do, but that don’t change nothin’!” Hoggle claimed. “That girl always did what she wanted! There was no stoppin’ her. “Specially after she met Jaron.”

Ashe rose to all fours and chattered, angrily.

“There’s nothin’ we can do for her now, bird-brain!” Hoggle grumbled and waved his hand out towards the Labyrinth and beyond. “She’s gotta make it out there now.”

“But she shouldn’t be so all alone.” Sarah replied, hugging her knees. “Even I had you all to help me. When she left… She had no one.”

“You should be worryin’ more about yourself!” Hoggle replied, testily. “Mere minutes here change mortals and you’ve been here for over a year! When you go back Above, you ain’t gonna be the same!”

Sarah gave him a sharp look. She too had noticed the small, minute changes in herself that were the results of her extended stay in the Underground. Jareth had warned her that the longer she stay, the harder going back would be. It would be a half-life for her Aboveground and she would always have a whole inside her where the magic had been. That’s why she had made a permanent decision.

“I’m not going back, Hoggle. I’ve decided that much. Jareth is going to take me Aboveground long enough for me to tell my family and for me to get my important stuff. Then, I’m coming here… To my home…”

“So then thou art to marry King Jareth?” Didymus asked, hopefully.

“Wedding?” Ludo chimed in.

Sarah shrugged. “I dunno.”

Hoggle blanched. “You dunno? You dunno!!! What do ya mean?”

“Well, I love Jareth, obviously, but I don’t know if I’m ready to marry him. Things are messed up as is, let alone for us to try to plan a wedding.”

“So you’re just gonna let ‘im have his cake and eat it too?” Hoggle asked and snorted. “Just the way that stubborn jackal likes it.”

“It’s not like that, Hoggle. Jareth loves me and wants me to be happy. He can be generous.” Sarah protested. “He let me keep Ashe didn’t he?”

“Yeah, a gryphon that’s afraid of heights!” Hoggle huffed. “Near worthless.”

The gryphon gave Hoggle a rather foul look and scratched behind one ear with his taloned foreleg.  
“See? Worthless.” Hoggle shook his head. “’Sides that, Jareth hates ‘im.”

Ashe preened at that comment, for he had endeavored to fall into ill favor with the Goblin King.

“Well, sure he can’t fly, yet… But he will… I believe in him.” Sarah scratched under Ashe’s beak. “As for Jareth hating him… Well, Jareth just doesn’t like most things. He’s good to me, Hoggle, and he’s good _for_ me.”

“Yeah, well don’t go letting him boss ya around all the time.” Hoggle grumbled and crossed his short arms over his chest. “Ol’ King Stretchy Pants ain’t the boss of you, remember!”

“Was your last vacation to the Bog so rewarding that you yearn for another holiday, Hogspit?” Jareth’s crisp voice came from behind them and Hoggle froze in fear. “Or did that foul odor rot away the few brain cells that you had left?”

“Uh, I gotta go!” In an instant Hoggle was gone.

The rest of the group stared at Jareth and he gave them an impatient look. “Well…?”

With that Ludo and Didymus disappeared, leaving Ashe and Sarah on the balcony. The pair wore mirrored scowls in Jareth’s general direction. He gave them a sniff and brushed a bit of imaginary dirt from his jacket.

“That wasn’t very nice, Jareth.” Sarah admonished him.

“I am rarely _nice_ when I overhear treasonous talk, Sarah.” Jareth then remarked dryly to Ashe. “I was referring to you as well, you overgrown cockatiel.” 

“Calling you a silly name is treasonous talk?” Sarah quirked one eyebrow at him.

“Highly treasonous.” Jareth replied, indignantly, and eyed Ashe again. “Isn’t that winged beast part lion?”

“Yep.” Sarah gave the gryphon a proud smile.

“Good. Would you send that quasi-feline to the oubliette under the Shaft of Hands? The Helping Hands tell me that it has overrun with rats again.”

Ashe gave him a hiss and flipped his tail, angrily.

“He is not a mouse-trap, Jareth. You stop being so mean, right now.” Sarah reprimanded.

Jareth chuckled and took a few steps around them, studying Ashe’s form. “Can’t he fly?”

“No.”

Jareth gave the gryphon a smug smile. “I can fly.”

Ashe gave Jareth a look that told the Goblin King that the gryphon would be more than happy to peck out his eyes at his earliest convenience.

“Jareth…” Sarah warned as she rose to her feet.

“Do not worry, love. He will fly.” Jareth swept her into his arms and gave her a soft smile. “I have tried my best, but what else can I do to get you alone, my sweet?”

Sarah wrinkled her nose and tapped one finger against her cheek, feigning deep thought. “Well… You could have just asked.”

Jareth gave low chuckle and left a kiss upon the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Where is the fun in that?”

For a moment the pair just remained, motionless in the other’s arms. Sarah nestled her head on his shoulder and listened for the steady thrum of his heart. His gloved hands moved to meld her closer to him and he breathed deep in the scent of her. Wild roses…

“How was your day?” Sarah asked, trying to suppress feeling like a very messed up June Cleaver.

“Slightly less horrid than normal.” Jareth remarked, dryly. “After our early breakfast together, I tried to go speak with my mother. Jorall turned me away again, but at least he finally spoke to me without yelling. We are no where near having a toddy yet, but I accept that. Then I listened to goblin grievances for over two hours. Those wretched twins, Slud and Clud were in over half of the cases that I heard today… Everything from ‘chicken rustling’ to ‘imposing bodily harm to others by means of using second parties as sleds’… In an, oddly, fortunate circumstance, I was relieved of grievances for the day, because I had to put out a fire that some assiduous little pyromaniac started in the great stone maze east of the castle. I had barely the time to finish that before I was informed that one of the more rotund goblins had actually fallen down the Shaft of Hands, thus discovering a rodent infestation and breaking a total of thirty-six of the digits on the Helping Hands on his way down. After freeing the rather aptly christened, Tubbs the Goblin, I returned to the castle and attempted to take Mother her tea. All I received in return for my gesture was a full teapot lobbed at my skull.”

“Whoa…” Sarah’s eyes widened. “All that before tea time, huh?”

Jareth gave a defeated nod.

“And _after_ tea time?” Sarah felt almost afraid to ask.

“Even worse. Since tea, I have bogged 136 goblins, four elves, six snails, three chickens, one ogre, ten fairies, fourteen chairs, and my sister.”

“You bogged Jora?!” Sarah leaned back in his arms to stare at him gape-jawed. “Why?”

“It was merely an accident. I missed.” Jareth remarked, dryly.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t ‘miss’ when you Bog someone, Jareth.”

“Well, I don’t generally ‘miss’ those I choose to bog, either. Bogging was the only resource I had to silence her wretched tongue and give me a moment’s respite. She nagged at me for over an hour, spewing some drivel that, likely, our cousin, Rowan is the source of.” 

Sarah gave a low whistle. “Sounds like you’ve had a crappy day.”

“I haven’t reached the end of it yet, precious.” Jareth trailed his knuckles down her cheek. “I still have things left undone tonight.”

“So, you’re playing hooky to come see me?”

“Exactly.” Jareth gave a relieved sigh and she giggled as he held her tighter.

“What class are you skipping?” She teased.

“The one where I pretend to give a rat’s ass that it is an abuse of my powers to Bog my sister. Jora tattled on me to Grandma.” Jareth replied.

“So, it’s like you are skipping detention… Ooh, I always liked the rebels.” Sarah laughed.

She and Jareth relinquished their hold on one another to lean against her balcony railing, but he kept her small hand clasped in his as he gazed out over his kingdom. His eyes came back to Sarah and he smiled, weakly.

“How was your day, love?” He asked, genuinely.

“Been trying to get that chicken over there to fly most of the afternoon.” Sarah jerked one thumb in Ashe’s direction and Ashe snubbed his nose at her. “But earlier we went on a walk through the Goblin City and I had a pint at the Roasted Chicken with a few of the goblins.”

Jareth raised one eyebrow. “Of goblin ale?”

“Nope. Sudsy, the bartender, gave me some pixie wine. It was pretty good… It tasted like I would imagine glitter tastes like. I also made up my list of stuff I need to get when we go to visit my parents to let them know what the heck happened to me.”

“Did you visit my mother today?”

Sarah nodded and tightened her grip on his hand. “Yeah… We had tea…”

The pair looked to one another and both erupted in laughter. Jareth leaned over to steal another quick kiss from her.

“You never fail to brighten my day. I am sorry that our moments have been so few and far between, love.” He apologized.

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy… Besides, you always make up for it when I do get to see you… So since you’re day isn’t done… I guess I’m sleeping alone tonight?”

“I’m afraid so… Unless you still let that overgrown housecat sleep in your bed.” Jareth replied. “I have an appointment in the Dragon Wastes… It may take me all night if things do not go well.”

“Well… I could always wait up for you… Just in case.” Sarah leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. “Or leave an open invitation for you to crawl in when you get done.”

Jareth gave her a warm smile and deepened the kiss. “It’s a date.”

* * *

Morven approached Krollin’s home, on horseback, astounded at how long it had been since he had been in the Genkis. It had been too long since he had the Merrow Wind docked and left crewless. Well, perhaps only seven months, but, nevertheless, too long. Upon his arrival, he hired crews to ready his landed ship for its next season before heading for Krollin’s home. His business on the mainland took longer than he would have liked. Being the rum-soaked fool that he was, Morven had upset a merchant in Shade’s Coast by sleeping with not just one, but two of his daughter’s, and the old man had hexed him. It had taken some time and much of his gold to get the merchant to remove the spell that caused snakes and toads to fall from Morven’s lips every time he spoke. Now all Morven wanted to do was buy some rum and get back to the seas. Quigli had been right. The mainland was a bad place to be these days.

As his horse approached Krollin’s home, he saw a small raft floating in the middle of the bright lagoon. The raft was crudely constructed of an old barn door and two rum barrels with a broken lance serving as the mast. Upon the mast was a heavily patched sail made of an old cloak. The little ship looked rough, but floated magnificently on the cool waters and Morven was impressed. Snoozing in the warm tropical sun on the raft was what looked to be a young elf, a battered tricorne hat covering their face. Morven gave a slight chuckle as he dismounted his horse at Krollin’s dock. The elf came to the doorway as if on cue and his lips stretched into a wide smile.

“Cap’n! Good to see ya! Quigli! Anuerin! Morven’s back!”

Morven’s eyes went back to the raft, where the figure sat up and gave a hearty wave. “Who’s that?”

Krollin smirked. “Aneurin. Filled out a bit since you seen her last, I suppose. Fae magic is takin’ well to her.”

“Alyx?” Morven was shocked to find the girl still here after all this time. “What in the name of Davey Jones is she still doin’ here?” 

“Stayed on with me and Quigli, she did. We figured we teach her a few things… Bright kid, that one. She built that boat out there all on her onsies. The kid’s learned a lot, Morven.” Krollin cleared his throat and gave his Captain a level. “She’d make a good mate, if I say so me self.”

Turning to look at his steward in surprise, Morven raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Really?”

“Aye. Right smart kid, she is.”

Morven turned back to face the lagoon, where Alyx was crashing through the surf to greet him. She wore a set of loose pants and shirt that Morven recognized as cast-offs of Krollin’s. The elf’s cloths were a closer fit for her than anything else, despite still being a little on the large side for her, but she had rolled up the sleeves and pant legs to make an almost fit. Her battered hat was clapped upon her head and she wore a broad smile. She held up a large string of fish.

“You like fish, right?”

Morven laughed and gave her a nod. “Aye, ‘course I do, kid. Good to see yer still alive.”

She trudged up through the tide leapt into Morven’s arms, tightly hugging him. A little shocked, Morven hugged her back. What he had not realized was that he was one of the few men she considered anything close to a friend and she had missed his company and banter. Morven squeezed her back with a laugh.

“Easy lass. Yer breakin’ me ribs!”

“We’ve been worried about you!” Alyx admonished. “Where have you been?”

“Well, I had me some problems on the mainland with the sales and-“

“Who hexed you this time?” Krollin asked as the trio made their way towards the house.

“No one you know.” Morven retorted as Quigli arrived to meet them on the porch.

Quigli guffawed and asked. “Where ya been, lad? Hexed again? Who did it this time?”

Morven grumbled. “Kieman of Shade’s Coast.”

“Uh-huh.” Quigli snorted. “Which of his daughters did you sleep with?”

Morven frowned. “How d-“

Quigli snorted. “Both of ‘em then?”

“Will one of you fools point me towards the rum?” Morven groaned and followed them to the house.

After many hours of drinking, eating, and talking, the full moon found the shipmates relaxing around the campfire. Relaxing and talking business.

“When do we go back to sea?” Quigli asked Morven, bluntly, as he packed his pipe and eyed the Captain.

“Don’t ya worry dwarf…” Morven chuckled and dug his bared toes into the sand. “We’ll be settin’ sail as soon as possible. I’d like to run a shipment of wild spice down to Hawker’s Mooring soon. Then maybe skate down to Xanthe Fai for a bit o’ fire grass from Black Tom’s ship… The prices are getting’ good again and I’ve heard tell of a few card and dice games to be won.”

“What about the Seelie Guard?” Krollin asked. “They’ve been cracking down on our kind lately.”

“Bah, they’ve moved on to other pressin’ matters. There was an orc uprising in Darkwood Copse and a few problems with the harpies at Piran.” Morven waved a hand, dismissively and let his gaze rest on Alyx across the fire. “And you, kid?”

Alyx’s eyebrow raised. “Me? What about me?”

“What be your plans?”

Krollin spoke up for her. “I’ll be needin’ a good cabin boy, sir.”

“And she’ll need some more trainin’ before I take her to sea again. ‘Sides, have the lot of ya forgotten ‘bout the Seelie Guard runnin’ us from Hawker’s Mooring?” Morven grumbled. “Yer trouble, kid, and I make enough of that on me own.”

Alyx rose quickly to her feet, the wild magic inside raising her anger. “If you didn’t want me with you, you should have left me in Hawker’s Mooring. I could have taken care of myself and you wouldn’t have to worry yourself about me.”

Morven took a deep breath. “Yer right… I suppose. Why the thunder would you want to be a pirate anyway?”

“I’ve got nothing to go back to!” Alyx blurted out, angrily. “Not in this world or any other! Everything I know and love is gone!”

The trio looked at the small girl as she took deep, uneven breaths. She turned her back to them, and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to control her temper.

Her voice was soft when she finally spoke again. “I don’t trust anyone, but I need your help. You three are the closest things I have to friends in this world and… I need you to teach me.”

Morven chewed on one of the amulets around his neck. “Oh? Why’s that, bucko?”

She turned back to face them. “I owe someone. I owe them a lot. I need to learn so I can help them.”

Quigli puffed on his pipe and gave her a knowing look. “Is this cause worth fightin’ and maybe dyin’ for, lass?”

Alyx’s eyes softened. “Yes… Very much so.”

“Okay.” Morven nodded and dropped the amulet to his chest. He scratched his chin, thoughtfully. A large smile broke out over his face. “Aye… I can see you’ll be trouble, but well worth every minute. Will ya join my crew?”

Alyx gave them a smile. “When do we set sail?”

* * *

Though it was Seelie blood that ran through his veins, The Goblin King was a sight feared within the Unseelie Court. His goblins could be creatures of either court and thus so could be their king. He was the dream-weaver, the seducer, the enchanter, the cruel bringer of the darkest nightmares. Jareth knew this and it brought a smirk to the corner of his lips. With the wave of one hand, he left his private quarters in the Goblin City and appeared in the southern desert lands known as Dragon Wastes. A vicious sandstorm whipped the sands all around, but not one grain touched Jareth as he stared up at the massive gates before him. He wore his dark goblin armor and he blended in well with the night. Even in the low visibility, he could see the carved cobra heads upon each door and there was sea salt in the air. It seems that they had brought his brother to Naga Coast. No doubt so that the Naga Queen Naamah Takshak could practice her venom on his Fae flesh. Jareth’s smirk turned to a snarl.

He gathered his magic and the winds of the sandstorm howled around him. He slammed his palm against the door and a whirlwind of sand and magic blew the door from its hinges. He stepped inside the doorway and the nagas shied away from him. Before him, on her dais, Queen Naamah had risen to her full height, curled upon her serpentine tail and ready to strike. When she saw him, she gave a fanged smile and relaxed into a coil again. Naamah was nude from the waist up, except for the golden chains the adorned her upper body and weaved through her dark hair. Jareth strode forward towards the dais and two naga cobra guards moved to intercept him. Their Queen halted them with one sharp hiss.

“Welcome Goblin King. It has been eons since you have graced our sandy halls…” Naamah hissed as she slithered down from the dais to greet him. “Then, out of the sandstorm, here you are… Blowing down my doors.”

“I am here to speak with Mab.” Jareth replied, his voice colder than ice.

The Naga Queen visibly flinched when he used her High Queen’s name so callously. “Is my liege expecting you?”

In an instant, Jareth’s pale hand was around her throat and squeezing. She hissed and tried to constrict him with her tail, but with the wave of his free hand, she was paralyzed. Her yellow viper eyes widened and she grasped at his arm as his grip tightened. His mismatched eyes narrowed.

“Where is she?”

“Now, now… If you can’t play nice, Goblin King…” Mab chuckled as she entered the room. She wore a skintight dress of golden naga scales as sign of what would happen to any subject who dare rebel against her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a _Seelie_ visitor at this time of night? My Sluagh was just getting ready to ride out for the evening.”

Jareth released Naamah and she cowered away from the two great monarchs, watching them both with wary eyes. Jareth did not even spare her a glance as his eyes bored into the dark queen. “I’ve come for Jaron, Mab.”

Mab burst into mad laughter and have him a smug smirk. “That is the funniest tale that I have heard all day, Jareth! What makes you think I would just _give_ him to you?”

“It has been a year. You’ve had enough time to play your twisted games with him. Let him go.” Jareth ordered, letting the power of his magic flow over her.

“Oh?” Mab held back a flinch as his power hit her. She retaliated by drawing on her powers and a dark miasma grew around her. “And if I refuse, Goblin King?”

“Then I shall use every ounce of my power to _take_ him from you.” Jareth threatened.

Mab gave another haughty laugh. “This is too droll! I know you Seelie too well. You would never risk war betwixt the courts and even if you rebelled and used that pathetic little goblin army to battle me… My Sluagh would _crush_ you.”

Jareth snarled at the dark queen. “I swear if you do not free my brother, I sh-“

“Do what, little king? Send your ferocious goblins after me?” Mab gave him a cruel smile. “Tell me, does Oberon even know that you are here fighting for a lost cause?”

“My brother is no lost cause.”

“You brother is _weak_!” Mab dismissed Jareth with the wave of one hand and turned to leave. “I have broken him.”

“If he is so _broken_, then why did he make it all the way to my Labyrinth walls in his last escape?” Jareth felt a small bit of satisfaction when her back straightened and anger came from her in waves. “Not as weak as you thought, is he?”

She turned to glare at the Goblin King, her red eyes blazing. “Your brother is _my_ slave! It is only a matter of time before he gives his will to me. He is _mine_! I will _break_ him!”

“A Sindhe would die first!” Jareth snarled back.

“My curse just might make him!” Mab thundered and the serpent palace shook. Jareth gave her a confused look and she laughed again. “They you have not heard? Your brother has been cursed!”

“What curse?” Jareth asked, warily.

“One that shall bind him to me for _all_ eternity.” Her red lips stretched into a mad smile and she held out her arms. “One that will make him my devoted slave forever. So, tell me Goblin King… In the name of the Seelie Court, do you declare war over your brother?”

Jareth took a deep and measured breath, holding in his fury at the witch before him. There was no way he could risk war between the courts and Mab was right. His goblin army was no match for both the Sluagh and her Unseelie forces. Letting his magic ebb, he conceded, giving her a hard glare.

“That’s what I thought.” Mab gave him a cruel smirk and let Harkin help her into a dark cloak made of tanned naga-skin. “If you shall excuse me… My Sluagh awaits me.”

She swept by him, her dark magic nearly choking him. Jareth held his anger in check as Harkin paused before him.

“I must say… Your brother has quite _thick_ skin, Jareth… Naamah’s naga’s have had their blades on him since dusk and I haven’t heard him scream yet. The Dark Queen herself has assured me that he shall bear a few scars to remember _her_ by.”

Jareth rather enjoyed knocking the smirk from Harkin’s face upon his exit of the Naga Kingdom. 

* * *

Within the week the Merrow Wind was at sea and sailing back into the southern waters of the Emerald Sea. Since they carried strictly legitimate cargo, they were able to sail through Seelie guarded waters and stop at many more ports along their way to Hawker’s Mooring. It took them nearly three months before they reached the southern waters of the Emerald Sea. Far wiser to the ways of the seafarer than on her first trip, Alyx felt more at home on the ship this season. If she could not be found at the wheel with Morven, she was either in the crow’s nest reading her enchanted book, or assisting Krollin about the ship. Fearing her all too feminine face would betray her, she still often wore her dark muffler to cover what she claimed were ‘terrible scars’ and practiced her glamour to aid in her disguise. Her hair had grown back some in her time spent in the Genkis and she kept it tethered back from her face in a short ponytail.

Unafraid and willing to learn, she took on any task that any other crew member would do. The name Aneurin of the Genkis became synonymous with both ferocity and possible stupidity aboard the Merrow Wind, for many a crew member had watch the boy either settle a brawl between two that were twice his size or steer the ship in the midst of a rogue storm. It privately thrilled Morven to see how well the girl was adapting. The Fae magic had taken well to her and he could see the changes all the time. Her eyes had taken on an icy blue sheen and she grew more agile every day. She had the makings of a great pirate and hopefully someone he trusted to keep on. The girl was a fast learner and the way she strived to learn more and more made Morven quite curious. Why did she try to learn so fast and so hard? Try as he might, he couldn’t pry anything out of her for she kept mum on her past.

Before they had docked to trade their load of wild spice in Hawker’s Mooring, he found her asking the crew members questions about the island. When they docked, she disappeared into the city. She was gone for a long time. About the time he became frantic with worry and was ready to go in search of her, she reappeared, a few coins less, and ready to sail. With her reappearance they found that she had bought a short sword, a decent knife, a bevy of potions and herbs, and a spell book. To Morven’s slight dismay, she began to teach herself spell, potions, and incantations. Her efforts were normally safe, but there were times that a few of her spells or potions had gotten a little out of hand and Quigli had to stop the mops and buckets from trying to beat the crew senseless or cannon balls from floating around and bashing people about the head. 

Keeping to the more legit side of trading, Morven mainly bought and sold spices or wares while they were docked in Hawker’s Mooring. Then the word on the wind and sea was of a private poker game to be held nestled deep in the island. Morven left the ship early to attend, leaving Krollin in charge on board. Alyx was on guard duty when he returned, late, that evening. Upon his return, he was all smiles, albeit they were weary ones from his long night of playing. Alyx rested along the railing and eyed his grin, warily.

“What did you do tonight?” She asked.

“I won.” He replied, a little drunk, and held out his arms, extravagantly. He had a bottle of rum in each hand. “I drank rum to celebrate!”

“Won what?” Alyx asked.

“Get Krollin and Quigli and meet me in my quarters and you’ll see.” Morven chuckled as he patted the large bag at his side. He thrust a bottle into her hands as he stumbled away, mumbling. “Drink up me hearties, yo ho…”

Alyx did as he asked and soon the trio entered his room to see the spoils of the card game. There were several little glass bottles filled with a dark red liquid and two mason jars full of what looked like nearly opaque eggs sitting on his desk. Morven was swigging rum from the bottle, liberally, his feet propped up on the desk. 

“What the hell is that?” Alyx asked studying one of the glass bottles. “It looks like blood.”

“It is.” Morven stated and she almost dropped the bottle in shock. He grabbed it and gave her a sharp look. “Be careful! That’s dragon blood. That’s some mighty rare stuff there.”

“And that?” Alyx asked and pointed towards the jars.

Quigli grunted. “Them’s Kelpie eggs.”

“Kelpie eggs?” Alyx pursed her lips. “Eww… Why would anyone want those?”

“Ogres, orcs, and trolls find them to be a delicacy.” Krollin explained. “Where the hell did you get these, Cap’n?”

“I won ‘em in the poker game tonight offa ol’ Elroi the Gambler. A royal flush won me two cases of dragon’s blood and three of the eggs.” Morven seemed more than pleased with himself. “We’re takin’ it to Bergtroll.”

Both Quigli and Krollin blanched.

“Bergtroll?” Alyx frowned. “Isn’t that the troll town in the Hollow Tors?”

“Yes.” Morven said and finished his bottle of rum. “You’ve been readin’ that book, eh?”

Alyx looked to Krollin. “Isn’t that place bad news?”

Krollin nodded, grimly. “Very bad news.”

“Aren’t all the places we frequent? We’re pirates, bucko.” Morven studied one bottle of the dragon’s blood with a sly smile. “I know a troll there that’ll pay me a lot of gold for these little beauties.”

“Are you really sure about this?” Alyx asked.

“Course I am! I’m so sure about this that you’re coming with me instead of Krollin.” Morven commented, offhandedly, as he dug about in his desk drawers for another bottle of rum.

Both Krollin and Quigli gave him a look as if they though he had lost his mind and Alyx just stared at him, gape-jawed. He felt their stares and looked up at them with a puzzled look, as he found his bottle of rum.

“What?” He asked, defensively. “I think it’s ‘bout time she started learnin’ about bein’ a pirate if she’s going to stay on _my_ ship.”

“You want to take her to Bergtroll?” Quigli snorted. “Her?”

“Me!” Alyx blanched at the thought. “I’ve heard some bad stories about that place. Some of the guys on the crew were telling me that the King of the Troll Nation skins people in the village square. He skins them alive!”

“Fairy tales are greatly over-exaggerated.” Morven retorted.

“Bone Square.” Alyx murmured. “Quigli, didn’t you say they called it Bone Square ‘cause it’s made of the bones of King Narg’s enemies?”

“Aye and it’s a damn foolish place to go to, let alone take someone as young as you! The kid’s barely come into any of her magic and she’s still mortal!” Quigli snorted. “Yer mad, Morven!”

“We’ll be in and out. We’ll ride in and sell the stuff, hide out for the night, and leave in the mornin’.” Morven shrugged. ”Where’s the problem in that, mate?”

“It’s Bergtroll!” Krollin gasped. “Just the journey through the mountains to get there can be perilous! Aneurin doesn’t need to be goin’ there.”

“I don’t _want_ to go there.” Alyx added.

“If you want to stay on my boat you need to learn responsibilities and-“

Alyx slammed a fist down on the desk. “Shut up, Morven, and listen to reason! Bertroll is a bad idea. Let’s take the loot somewhere else or-“

Morven rose to his feet, anger crossing his features. He pointed his finger at Alyx, menacingly. “I’m Cap’n here, by thunder, and-“

“I’ll still tell ya when it sounds like a fool’s errand, by thunder!” Alyx retorted and slammed her palms down on the desk.

Krollin and Quigli watched the pair, astounded as they stared each other down. The dwarf chewed on his pipe, curious to see who would back down first and the elf watched to make sure that the fire-tempered girl did not break their Captain’s nose in a fit of rage. Neither faltered for long minutes, both steaming mad at the other. Morven, surprisingly, was the first to sit back in his seat and calm down.

He took a deep breath and began. “The shipment is waitin’ on me in the Highlands. It’d be a quicker and safer sale in Bergtroll. Not to mention it’d be more profitable.”

Quigli snorted. “Then take Krollin or me. The Unseelie will be bad there this time of year.”

Alyx’s head snapped up. “The Unseelie Court is there?”

Morven nodded. “Oh, they’ll be thick there this time of year. ‘Tis their slaving season up north.”

Without pause, Alyx said. “I’ll go.”

Krollin looked to her, sharply. “What? Why?”

Alyx shrugged and lied. “My Captain wills it.”

Morven cocked an eyebrow at her. “After the stink you just raised about _not_ wantin’ to go?”

“I was wrong.” She lied, again. “I really do need to experience this sort of thing sooner or later.”

“Liar.” Morven smirked and held out his bottle of rum in a toast. “I’ll ask no questions of yer motive and I’ll remain happy to hear you’ll go. Quigli, inform the men that we set sail for Amarantha in the morning. Krollin, finish our affairs here.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Both men chorused, grumpily, and went about their duties.

As Alyx went to go back to her watch, Morven grabbed her arm, gently. As she turned to face him, she saw concern cross his features.

“If you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” Morven said, gently.

She shook her head and jerked her arm free. “I’ll go, Morven.”

“They weren’t telling you no lies when they said it’d be dangerous, kid. Mountain trolls are fierce, but they’ll be only one trial we’ll face there. The town will be swimmin’ with goblins, orcs, trows, werewolves, red caps-”

“I’ll go.” Alyx replied, firmly. “Just be glad I said yes.”

“If this is over yer friend, then-“

“Why did you want _me_ to go with you so badly anyways?” Alyx changed the subject, swiftly.

Morven caught her tactic, but he let the girl have her secrets. “You wanted lessons in the Underground and here be the first. Bartering with Trolls 101. Lessons here ain’t easy, kiddo.”

“You have no idea.” Alyx murmured and disappeared out the door.

* * *

Jareth was donning a pair of leather gloves when Sarah burst into his study. He inwardly groaned when he saw that great winged rat at her heels. He quirked one eyebrow at her abrupt entrance.

“Problems?”

“I need to go home.” His face fell and she added, quickly. “Just so they know what happened to me. I have to tell them.”

“Do you honestly think they will believe you?” Jareth asked as he studied the heavily bound book upon his desk.

“They would have to! You’d be with me an-… Is th-“ She looked down at the tome in restraints on the desk. “Is that the book that tried to bite Ludo in Jaron’s room?”

“Yes. It is called a fanged grimoire. Filled with spells so dangerous, its binding guards them with vicious fangs.”

“Are you going to try to read it?” Sarah eyed his thick leather gloves.

“I need to refresh myself on dark curses. Apparently Mab has cast a rather vicious one on my brother and I hope this tome will provide me with some answers.” He tugged off the gloves. “I must admit that confronting your family sounds like a rather pleasant alternative.”

Sarah cocked one eyebrow. “Book’s that nasty, huh?”

“The last fanged grimoire that I tangled with nearly left me missing a few digits.” Jareth replied dryly and moved around the desk to take her hand. “Have you planned on how you are going to break this news to your parents, love?”

Sarah shrugged. “I just figured that I’d wing it.”

Jareth groaned. “This sounds disastrous. I must warn you that your winged rat shall have to stay here. It will be enough for me to carry both of us across the worlds without his added weight.”

Ashe gave him a piercing glare and Sarah rubbed his head. “He’s right Ashe. Besides I think bringing you might freak them out even more.”

The large beast curled up on the rug, resting his head atop his paws in a pouting manner. Sarah rolled her eyes at Ashe and reached for Jareth’s hand.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Jareth returned and the world melted away around them.

* * *

The Merrow Wind set sail at dawn and headed back north, towards Nevan Channel. Alyx was unusually quiet on the long trip to Amarantha. She was no longer trying spells or chattering with the crew, but often found reading from her enchanted book. Morven assumed that she was reading as much as she could about trolls and the city of Bergtroll. Mid-voyage he searched the ship for her reclusive figure, hoping to have a few words with her. He searched all of the holds, his quarters, the kitchen, and everywhere else he could think of for her, but she remained lost. Muttering to himself about lazy cabin boys, he climbed to the crow’s nest, hoping to find Quigli. Surely the dwarf would know where to find her. As he peeked his head into the crow’s nest, he found her. She sat with her back to him as she read aloud to Quigli about dragons.

“It says here that dragon’s hide is the best source for armor because it is nearly impenetrable. Only problem is that it’s kinda heavy.” Alyx ran her finger down the page as she read.

“Aye, dragon skin shields are best for battle.” Quigli agreed with a snort. “Wantin’ to slay a dragon now, are we? Let’s see if you survive Bergtroll first, kid. Then if yer crazy enough you can move on to dragons. Hell, I’ll even help ya!”

Alyx laughed. “No. I don’t think I want to slay a dragon anytime soon.”

Morven smirked. “That’d be the smartest thing I’ve heard you say.”

Alyx spun around to give him a dirty look. “I am mad at you, Morven.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t tell me that it is illegal to sell dragon’s blood in Bergtroll without the King’s permission!”

“_Pirate_.” Morven replied and shrugged, indifferently. “What do I care for laws? Besides, who says I _don’t_ have his permission?”

Alyx frowned. “Because you _are_ a pirate. We could be tortured and killed if we’re caught.”

“We won’t get caught.” Morven replied, confidently.

“Says you _now_.” Quigli snorted.

“Quiet dwarf. Yer still going, right?” Morven asked Alyx. “Ya aren’t chickening out on me are ya, kid?”

Alyx gave him a glare. “I’m not chickening out, Morven. Though, I would like to live long enough to get a taste of immortality before I’m murdered.”

Morven frowned. “You afraid of trolls? Don’t worry. I’ll fight ‘em off for ya. I’m pretty good with a sword.”

“I don’t need you to fight a troll for me. I’m perfec-“

“I doubt you’ve done much practicin’ with a blade while you three were _sunnin’_ yerselves in the Genkis.” Morven drawled, happy to be getting a rise out of her.

Her eyes flared and she gave a very Quigli-like snort. “Shows what you know.”

Quigli cut in, his tone a warning. “Don’t go there, Morven.”

“Oh?” Morven ignored the dwarf. ”I’ll bet I can best you with a blade any day of the week, kid.”

Quigli frowned and cut in again. “That’s not fair, Morven. You’ve got years experience on her and-“

“What’s the wager then, _Cap’n_?” Alyx broke in.

“If you can best me with a blade, then we’ll sell the cargo in Shade’s Coast and save Bergtroll for another day.” Morven smirked. ”Hell, I’ll even buy drinks at the nearest pub.”

“Okay.” Alyx agreed.

“But…” Morven added. “If I win, not only do we go to Bergtroll, but you also have to tell me the truth about who you really are and why you’re runnin’ so far and so fast.”

Alyx’s eyes narrowed and she paused for one long moment. “Deal.”

“Good. Meet me on the deck and we’ll settle this.” Morven’s head disappeared as he climbed down.

Alyx moved to follow and Quigli grabbed her arm, hissing. “Are ya crazy? Morven’s an expert swordsman. Do yer secrets mean so little to you, lass?”

Alyx gave him a smile. “He’ll not best me.”

“I’m not stitchin’ you fools up after this!” Quigli snorted. “Yer on yer own!”

She gave him a small smile and headed down the rigging. Quigli followed, worried about the pair of them. By the time they reached the deck, Morven waited with the entire crew gathering around to enjoy the spectacle. Alyx quirked an eyebrow as Morven gave her a sword.

“Wanted an audience for your humiliation, Cap’n?” She asked, tossing her tricorne hat to one side.

He smirked as he swung his sword in one hand, expertly. “They all wanted to make bets on who would win. I fear the odds don’t favor ya much, kid.”

Alyx grasped the hilt of her blade and took a few practice swings, slicing through the air in a figure-eight about her body. She held it with both hands and took a defensive stance.

Krollin cleared his throat. “She’s got a natural skill, Cap’n. We’ve been practicin’ for awhil-”

“Belay that, Mr. Krollin.” Morven hefted his sword in one hand gave it a few extra, lazy swings before he looked back up at her. “Last chance, kid. You can still back out.”

“No thanks.”

With a laugh, Morven lunged for her, bringing his sword down towards her side. Twisting her blade, she blocked him, and ducked his next blow aimed at her head. The steel of their blades crashed as they battled and the crew roared. Alyx and Morven circled one another in a brief pause to see who would be the first to attack. Morven swung at her with a yell and she barely dodged the sword slicing towards her chest, the blade nicking her clothing. She fell back and Morven slammed his sword down at her. She rolled to one side and then slammed her booted foot into his midsection, throwing him backwards. He grunted and stumbled back, only to come at her again. She scrambled to her feet, barely blocking his next attack. Her back slammed into a cabin wall and she brought her sword back up to block his again. He pressed hard against her blade, their faces mere inches apart.

“Give up, kid!” Morven gasped. “Yer beat.”

“Then why are you outta breath?” Alyx hissed and threw all her weight into pushing him away from her. As he stumbled back, she lashed out with her sword, slicing his hand, and causing him to lose his weapon. Morven fell backwards upon his back and stared up at her with wide and amazed eyes as she stood over him. She pointed the tip of her sword at him. “I win.”

Morven nodded with a weak grin. “I guess we go to Shade’s Coast then?”

She shook her head and sheathed the blade. “No. We go to Bergtroll.”

Leaving the astounded gathering, she returned to the crow’s nest and her reading while Quigli moved to tend to Morven’s wound. The crew returned to their duties after making due on a few wagers, while Krollin stayed behind for orders from Morven.

Morven jerked his head towards Alyx. “Go with Aneurin, Krollin. Make su-”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Krollin went to follow the girl.

Quigli set to bandaging the wound on Morven’s hand, but he kept chuckling under his breath. Morven gave him a glare.

“What’s so damned funny, dwarf?” Morven growled.

“The lass can fight. She sure whupped you!” Quigli chortled. “You owe us drinks for this one! At least she can hold her own in Bergtroll. You’ll not have to worry about her much if ya get into the thick of things.”

“Aye.”

Quigli finished the bandage and produced his pipe. After a few puffs he turned back to Morven. “Why didn’t she go for her spoils in the bet?”

Morven shrugged. “For some reason she really wants to go to Bergtroll. Not my business, I suppose.”

“Are you going to ask her?”

“Not my business, but I’ll try to weasel it from the lass on the ride.” Morven smirked.

“Good idea.” Quigli gazed upwards at the stars. “You think she’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be going in and out. What could happen?”

* * *

Thunder crashed outside the William’s household as Robert and Karen stayed awake late in the night, hoping to hear any news of their missing daughter. Sarah had disappeared shortly after their young neighbor Alyx had come up missing and they feared the worst.

Karen rubbed her husband’s arm, gently. “It’s nearly three in the morning. We should get some sleep.”

“What if she calls-“ Robert started and Karen took his hand.

“I have the ringers on the phones turned as loud as they can go, Robert. We’ll hear if she calls.”

“I can’t imagine where she disappeared to!” Robert put his face in his hands. “It’s not like her to run off like this.”

The French doors of their bedroom then blew open with a mighty gust of wind and rain. As Robert raced to close the doors, he froze at the sight in his doorway. Sarah stood before him in a beautiful purple gown trimmed in gold and she seemed to glow in his eyes. A golden veil covered her dark hair like a crown. His eyes roamed to the tall, blonde man next to her in a black frock coat and breeches, tapping a riding crop against his leg.

“Daddy?” Sarah whispered and rushed into her father’s waiting arms.

Robert hugged his daughter to him as tears fell from her eyes. “My little girl! We’ve been so worried!”

“Sarah!” Karen scrambled from the bed and to her stepdaughter, crying with joy. She hugged both her and her husband. “Where have you been?”

Sarah leaned back from their embrace and gave them a smile. “Do you remember the dreams that Toby used to have about goblins and a king?”

Karen nodded, looking confused. “Of course, but-”

“They came from that story you used to tell him about the princess and the Goblin King and how she wished her-“ Realization dawned on Robert and his eyes drifted to Jareth, still standing at the now closed doors with a smile. “It couldn’t be.”

Karen shook her head in disbelief. “That was only a fairytale. It can’t be real.”

Jareth looked smug. “Madam, I assure you that I am _very_ real.”

Sarah turned to give him a chastising look. “Jareth.”

He shrugged and gave her a sharp-toothed smile. “I’m only trying to help, love.”

Karen groaned. “Did you run off and join one of those renaissance fairs or a cult or something? You’ve been gone for weeks!”

“Weeks?” Sarah blinked. “I have been in the Underground for over two years!”

“Time moves differently in the Underground, Sarah.” Jareth reminded her. “Little time has passed here compared to there.”

“The Underground?” Robert asked. “What is going on here?”

Sarah turned back to her parents and gave them a warm smile. “Fairytales are very real, daddy. I promise you that. I’ve been in the Underground. The home of the Fae and all other kinds of mythical creatures.”

Robert took his daughter’s hands. “Sarah, if you’re in some kind of trouble, then just tell us. We’ll help you.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not in any trouble. I’m in love.”

Karen looked to Jareth. “With him? Who is he?”

“I am Jareth Antares Sindhe.” Jareth’s chest puffed a little. “The Goblin King and Ruler of the Labyrinth and the Goblin City.”

Sarah gave him another glare and then looked to her parent apologetically. “He’s a little arrogant. Even for a King.”

Robert glared at him. “What lies have you been feeding my daughter?”

“They are not lies, I assure you, sir.” Jareth kept control of his temper and gave a short bow.

Karen sunk down onto the bed, he face a mask of confusion. “I don’t understand any of this.”

Sarah sat down on the bed between her parents, taking both of their hands. “This is a shock, I know, but I’m really happy. Jareth and I are really happy together.”

“She is to be christened Fae as well.” Jareth added. “Your daughter will live in my world forever.

Robert cupped his daughter’s cheek. “Tell us from the beginning.”

Sarah looked to Jareth. “I guess the beginning would be when I was fifteen and I wished my little brother away to the King of the Goblins…”

Both Robert and Karen waited silently as she told them the shortest version of the tale of her adventures in the thirteen hours it took to rescue baby Toby.

Sarah concluded. “After that I saw little of Jareth but remained in touch with Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo. Then Jareth left the book for Alyx to find and I-“

“Alyx? Alyx Gideon?” Karen asked. “She’s still missing.”

“She wished herself to the Underground and I followed to make sure she would be okay.” Sarah gave a soft sigh. “She’s there, but missing again.”

Robert squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Anywhere is better than with that bastard of a father. We had thought he killed her and then came after you.”  
“No she was happy and well when I saw her last.” Sarah gave her father a smile. “I came to see you all so you would not worry about me.”

“I still find this all hard to believe.” Robert admitted.

“Do you still believe in magic?” Her smile wrinkled her nose and she turned to Jareth. “Show them some magic, honey.”

“And now I’m a trained monkey…” Jareth grumbled, good-naturedly, and slowly melted into his owl form and landed upon the nearest bedpost. Robert and Karen’s eyes were wide in shock at his transformation, but Jareth just preened his wing feathers rather smugly.

“That was a little bit of overkill, Jareth.” Sarah giggled and turned back to her parents. “See? There is such things as magic and happily ever after.”

“So what does this mean? You’re going to leave us and never come back?” Robert asked.

“I’m going to live in the Underground with Jareth and become Fae like he is.” Sarah explained. “But he can bring me to visit now and again… I won’t be completely gone.”

“Yet, she will be immortal and will no longer age as mortals do.” Jareth’s voice startled them all and they realized he had returned to his Fae form. “She will be my queen. Sarah shall never want for anything ever again.”

“A queen? Does that mean you’re getting married?”

Sarah shot another small glare at Jareth. “We’re… Dating. We may get married someday.”

“So you’re really happy?” Robert asked.

“You wouldn’t believe how much, actually.” Sarah gave a smile in Jareth’s direction. “I love him, daddy.”

“Well, if you’re happy, who are we to disagree?” Karen added. “I’m still rather confused about a lot of this, but we want you happy, Sarah.”

“I’ll let Jareth explain as much as he can to you.” Sarah said. “I’m going to run to my room and get a few things of mine. I’ll come back soon to tell Toby goodbye. I promise.”

“How far away are you going?” Robert asked.

Jareth gave the man a sharp smile. “Worlds away.”

* * *

Morgan hated going to Bergtroll. It was a nasty and repulsive town run by an even nastier and more repulsive king. She peeked outside the window of the carriage that carried her up the treacherous mountain roads to the even more treacherous city, sighing at the heavy snowfall. She hated the cold. This was not turning out to be a good day in the life of a sorceress. The black crow she called Sullie had perched upon her shoulder. He gave a short caw to attract her attention. Her eyes drifted to her companion. Despite the fact that he was freezing cold and hurting terribly from what Morgan suspected to be broken ribs, Jaron sat up straight and proud in the seat across from her. He gave her a roguish wink with the eye that wasn’t cut.

“I brain you the first escape, I tied you up the second, and then she makes you my fulltime caretaker…” Jaron’s busted lip curled into a smirk. “How droll.”

She frowned. “This is no laughing matter, Jaron. You think you have felt pain under Mab and the Naga Queen’s hands, but King Narg is an expert in torture. He-“

“I’ve heard the stories and I know the tales.” Jaron replied, testily, causing Sullie to flap his wings and give a short screech. Jaron’s eyes deadened. “I’m not afraid.”

“You should be!” Morgan retorted, harshly. “You are a stubborn, stubborn fool! She means to break you! Especially, since you got so close to the Labyrinth in your last escape!”

He gave her a weak smile. “I touched the walls with my bare hands, Morgan. I could feel the magic calling me… _She_ was there…”

“She? She who?” Morgan asked.

“Alyx… Harkin saw her.”

Morgan studied the wounded and weak prince, wondering if he was going mad. “What in the name of Joan the Wad are you talking about? No one’s seen that girl in nearly two years.”

Jaron moved to reply and then began to cough, hard. Hugging his aching ribs, he struggled to keep his coughing under control. Morgan reached out for him, and spied the blood upon his lips.

She cursed and moved to help him. “Heed this warning. Be smart in Narg’s dungeons, Jaron, or you will die there!”

Jaron gasped, weakly, trying to jerk free from her grasp. “I’ll never say her words! Never!”

“I fear there may come a day when you wish you had.” Morgan replied and the carriage came to a jerking stop. “Welcome to Bergtroll, my prince.”

* * *

As she roamed the gardens of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, Sarah’s thoughts strayed to her lost friend. Where was she? What did she do now? Was she happy? Those were only a few of the many questions swirling about in her mind. Sarah hugged her arms as she roamed the garden paths, garden fairies flitting about her. She felt one of the tiniest fairies alight onto her bare shoulder and Sarah let it danced down her arm with a smile. When the tiny green fairy reached her hand it spun around to give her a radiant smile.

“I bet you would find out about Alyx for me, wouldn’t you?” Sarah asked.

The fairy nodded, enthusiastically, and danced around her palm. The mortal chuckled as the being’s tiny feet tickled her and the fairy flew off into the air. She lowered her arm and sighed. Jareth had kept both her and Jora away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of the Court. He made it a point that Sarah not be subjected to such fools any more than she had to. This couldn’t have made Sarah happier. In his Labyrinth they were able to spend time together alone without mouths running.

His mother still would not speak to him, but Oberon kept his vow to let Sarah stay in the Underground. Her christening was planned for the coming spring. There were rumors that it was to be held in Sheridan’s Field with all of the Golden Court in attendance. Sarah wasn’t too thrilled about that. Jorall was to perform the ceremony… A sanctioned christening this time. Oberon had been giving him lessons. Sarah could live with that.

It had astounded her, but Jareth had managed quite well with her parents in their trip Aboveground, even giving them a mirror in which to contact Sarah with. The fact that the Goblin King impressed her father was pretty good in Sarah’s eyes. He had even managed to explain to them what Sarah’s new life held for her without getting them too terribly upset. She loved him, she knew that. She also knew she would always love him, but even the idea of marriage still frightened her. She had seen her parent’s tumultuous divorce and worried for herself. Even after her christening, she would always carry a mortal part of herself and she feared it could be the very downfall of her happily ever after. Besides those most serious concerns, she also wanted Alyx to be there. Preferably standing right next to Jaron, but Sarah dared not to wish too big. Sitting down, heavily, at a stone bench, she leaned forward, resting her chin into her palms. She sighed at her gloomy thoughts and pursed her lips.

“You look unhappy, my dear.”

Sarah spun at the sudden voice to find Jareth, smirking, behind her. “You shouldn’t spy on me like that.”

“I wasn’t spying.” He contested.

She frowned. “You were too.”

“Did you finally get rid of that winged menace?” Jareth asked, not spying the young gryphon in the immediate vicinity.

“He is not a menace. He’s in the kitchen with Abby… She’s feeding him leftovers.”

“What has you in such a foul mood today, my mortal?” Jareth came to sit next to her and brought her hand to his lips.

Her face softened. “Forgive me, Jareth. I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Oh loads of things… Alyx, my christening, marriage, your brother, divorce…” Sarah sighed. “I suppose I’m just worrying too much about things.”

“Take deep breath, Sarah.” Jareth gave her a smile. “We shall have an eternity to address every one of those items.”

She gave him a loving smile and squeezed his hand. “Thanks. I kinda needed a pick-me-up.”

“A pick-me-what?” Jareth asked, confused at her Aboveground speech.

“Never mind.” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for just being you.”

“Who else would I be?” Jareth asked, even more confused.

“No, I mean-“ She stopped. “Oh, just never mind.”

“I’m confused.”

“Oh, if Alyx were here she’d know how to explain mortal lingo to you.” She sighed. “I really miss her, Jareth.”

“I know, love. I’ve been searching high and low for her. We’ve found that she sailed to the port of Lir in Nevan, but we lost her trail after that. I’ve checked Hawker’s Mooring as well, for it is known haven for those on the run. I have tried to hunt down Roland as well, but he and Trog disappeared into the Enchanted Wood and haven’t been heard from in nigh over a year.”

“Your mother said that you have checked all the ports where she could be.”

Jareth gave a chuckle. “I am glad my mother still speaks to you. I believe she wished me burned in hot oil for taking her baby boy from her.”

“She’ll forgive you, Jareth. Give her time.”

He waved his free hand dismissively and dropped the subject of his mother. “There has been no sight of Alyx anywhere. She has virtually vanished.”

Sarah traced a pattern upon his hand, lovingly, and persisted. “Have you tried talking to Jiera?”

He frowned. “She will not even take her dinner with me. She takes all her meals in the north tower where she and Jorall are staying. Jorall will speak to me in passing, but his words are short and coldly polite.”

“Give them time. They know you overreacted and are trying to get him back.” Sarah kissed his pale cheek. “We will bring your brother home someday.”

“I do not know how.” Jareth confessed. “Mab’s hold on him is like that of an iron fist.”

“Maybe we could hire kidnappers or something?” Sarah offered.

Jareth laughed, loudly, and gave her a kiss. “Thank you, my dear. I needed a good laugh today.”

She huffed. “I’m serious. Can’t we-“

A goblin stumbled into the garden at their feet, gasping for breath. The poor creature bent over, trying to catch his breath Jareth gave it a glare. “Yes?”

The still gasping creature held up one finger to tell the Goblin King to give him a moment and Sarah giggled. Jareth frowned and gave Sarah a disapproving look. “They used to fear me…”

The goblin finally found his wind again and straightened his stubby body. He then saluted the King and smiled, sheepishly. “King! Rowan Twin is here! She’s in the throne room… She’s awfully mad!”

“How mad?” Jareth asked, warily.

“Well…” The goblin paused. “She broke throne.”

“Rowan broke my throne?” Jareth bristled.

“With her fists.” The goblin shook a little in fear.

“Oh…” Jareth cursed and sent the goblin away. “Bloody, bloody hell…”

“Who broke your throne?” Sarah asked, curiously.

“Princess Rowan Amarantha. Roland’s twin sister and my cousin. She is a nasty highlander wench with a sharp tongue. She, too, was close to my brother and probably wishes me dead. I’ve heard she wishes to attack even Magesblood and the Sluagh to get him back. I am sure she has words for me.” Jareth gave a great sigh. “I had supposed she would have shown up ages ago, but I’m sure she tried it _her_ way first…”

“Maybe she would like my kidnapper idea.” Sarah mused.

“By all means, tell her. Perhaps you will keep her off of my back.” Jareth gave her a quick kiss and smiled. “Get these gloomy thoughts from your head, my love. We shall find your friend.”

“I just often wonder what she is doing while I live this fairytale.”

“Perhaps she is living one as well.”

* * *

Rain thundered down upon the pair as they drove the wagon across the Highlands. Alyx tightened her slicker around herself and shivered as Morven drove the horses on in the storm. When they arrived in Amarantha, only Morven and Alyx had left the ship to pick up the cargo. The others had orders to sail north to the Genkis to wait for them to send word. After retrieving the cargo in a very seedy back alley of Amarantha, they loaded their wagon, and took off in the dawn hours. They had been going for all of the day and a good spell of the night without rest. Alyx gave Morven a slap upon his arm.

“Aren’t we going to stop in this storm?” She asked, nearly yelling.

“Why? We’re makin’ wonderful time!” Morven answered, jovially. “We’re almost to Balfor. Look there!”

Morven pointed ahead and in the distance Alyx could see the dim lights of a village. “What’s in Balfor?”

“A mighty nice little pub called the Black Ram. We’ll take our lodgin’ there.”

Alyx was more than happy when they arrived in the small farming town. Morven took them straight to the pub and gave the stable boy a few gold coins to stable their horse and store their wagon in the barn.

“Now we are on our way to Elroen if anyone asks you… On business. This town don’t really approve of those who trade with the mountain trolls.” Morven whispered as they made their way into the busy pub in the center of the town.

He led her to the bar where they took two seats and waited, watching the room. Alyx’s eyes roved over the room, studying the inhabitants. A small band played, wildly, in one corner and the inhabitants of the bar certainly were making merry on this miserable night. A grass nymph came before them at the bar, all smiles to the strangers. Like most Alyx had met in the Underground, the girl was beautiful and tall. Her skin and long hair was tinged the same color as the heather that grew in the springtime fields of the Highlands. Morven gave her a roguish smile and leaned across the bar.

“Canna help you? She asked, batting her eyes.

“You can, fair lass, you can! First off, I need a pint for me an’ me mate, here. Then I’ll be needin’ a room for the night.” Morven gave her a wink.

She giggled as she served them their ales and gave him a smile. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

As she flounced away, Alyx rolled her eyes, and took a drink of her ale. She muttered under her breath. “Are you freakin’ serious?”

Hearing her words, Morven gave her a smirk over the rim of his cup. “Lesson one. A little flirtation never hurts.”

“I’ll take your word on it.” Alyx grumbled. “Shouldn’t we be with the cargo?”

“That’s yer job, kid.” Morven downed the rest of his pint. “Ya didn’t think I’d be leavin’ the stuff alone overnight, did ya?”

Alyx frowned. “So while you’re staying in the room, I’m staying in the stables… With the wagon?”

“Right. You’ve a bedroll out there.”

Alyx groaned and sat her ale back on the bar. “Of all the low-life things t-“

The nymph returned with a set of keys and gave Morven a sexy smile as she twirled them around one finger. “I’ll show you to your room now, sir.”

Morven flashed a smile at Alyx and wrapped his arm around the nymph’s waist. As they made their way to the stairs he snagged a bottle of rum from off the bar. He called out over his shoulder. “Have a good night, Aneurin.”

“You’re a rat!” Alyx yelled and stormed away from the bar, ignoring the happy crowds. Slapping on her tricorne, she stepped put the door into the driving rain. She grumbled as she dashed across the street. “I hope he gets cursed again.”

Muttering to herself about shitty pirate captains as she entered the stables, she found the stable boy they had left their wagon with. Tipping the elf boy, she moved to unhitch the horses and wipe them down. Once she finished, she moved to find an empty stall and cursed when she realized the small stable was filled to capacity. Somehow, she managed to find herself a spare spot under their wagon. Making a makeshift pallet of the straw strewn about, she laid her bedroll on top. She managed to make herself a halfway comfortable bed, so she curled up there, hoping sleep would come swiftly to claim her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and waited.

Sleep wasn’t coming.

She groaned when she realized that sleep would still elude her for awhile and opened her eyes. When she opened them, she realized that she was no longer in the small stable in Balfor, but somewhere else entirely. The air around her was soft and sweet and filled with falling flower petals. The scent of jasmine filled her senses and she breathed deeply. She was no longer in straw, but rested upon a stone chaise adorned with silken pillows. Looking around, she realized that she was in the beautiful Forest Gardens of Allerleirauh and it was a clear and moonlit night. Looking down, she found that she no longer wore her Aneurin disguise but a simple white gown that flowed around her body. Her hair was once again long and wild, lying in curls upon the pillows, and dotted with jasmine petals.

She moved to sit up and try to discover how she had arrived in this place when she felt a very warm body next to her. Startled, she turned, and found that next to her and asleep was Jaron. He wore a loose white poet’s shirt that was open to reveal his chest and a pair of brown pants. One hand rested above his heart as he slept, and his mouth was opened, slightly. She could not move for fear she would break the illusion that he was beside her again. His mismatched eyes fluttered open and focused on her. He looked as shocked as she felt.

Jaron whispered and raised one shaking hand near her face. “I would touch you, but I fear you are only a ghost.”

She brought his hand to her warm cheek and kissed his palm, tasting the salty sweat of his skin on her tongue. “I’m afraid that this is a dream that I could wake from at any moment.”

“This may be a dream, but it is a good dream.” Jaron cupped the back of her neck and brought her lips down to meet his, tangling his fingers in her hair. She wrapped her arms around him as she returned the kiss with everything she had pent up in her heart. His tongue swept across hers as he crushed his lips to hers. He broke the kiss and whispered against her mouth. “You taste as I remember… Of sunshine and vanilla, jasmine in the moonlight… Of happier things.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, her head upon his chest. His heart thudded in her ear as she clung to him, tightly. Pressing his lips upon the top of her head, he sighed. He felt peace for the first time in years.

“I’m afraid to close my eyes.” Jaron confessed and ran his hand down the smooth skin of her back. “I fear that if I close my eyes, you’ll just be gone.”

Alyx looked up, tears clouding her eyes. “Then let us close our eyes, together, and rest. Perhaps we’ll wake up again and be together. If we don’t… I’ll come find you. I don’t know how, but I will.”

Jaron trailed his knuckles down her pale cheek and gave her a soft smile. “Well, I do leave a trail that even the dimmest of goblins can follow. You’ll see my bread crumbs, love.”

Alyx breathed. “I love you.”

“And I you.” Jaron whispered and pulled her down to meet his lips again, taking his time before, reluctantly, releasing her. She rested her head back against his chest and curled her fingers around the edge of his shirt, holding it tightly. His hand covered hers as the other cupped her head to his chest.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Yes.” She whispered.

“One… Two...”

* * *

“…Three…”

Jaron opened in eyes in the dark and screamed out his agony, alone. He kicked out with his legs and tugged at his chains as tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks. It had only been a dream. He cradled his head in his palms, hot tears burning his eyes. His fingers brushed something that was velvet soft in his hair and when he drew his bloody palm away, he found something that gleamed in the darkness. A pale jasmine petal shined up at him.

* * *

Jareth cursed at the sight of his mangled throne upon his entrance to the throne room. Next to it stood a tall, beautiful brunette in a dark green gown, edged in tartan. She was studying her handiwork with serious brown eyes, but looked to Jareth when he entered. A nearly spitting image of her brother, Rowan Amarantha was far more serious where her brother was jesting. She frowned at the Goblin King as he approached.

“What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Rowan?” Jareth snarled.

“I thought that, perhaps, a mangled throne would remind you, daily, that your brother is sufferin’, daily, in the hands of the Unseelie Court. I have only just discovered that he’s bein’ held in Bergtroll at the present.” Rowan replied, her Scottish accented voice ringing both strong and curt. “Though my attempts to contact King Narg of the Troll Nation have failed, I’ve surmis-“ 

“You nasty little Highlander wench!” Jareth growled. “Do you think I am not trying every resource to return my brother home?”

She scoffed. “You and Grandfather believe that good politics will return Jaron to our arms, but I know otherwise.”

“Oh? What, pray tell, do _you_ have in mind?” Jareth sneered.

“It will take brute force to wretch him from their clutches.”

“Do you want a full out war, Rowan? That would ravage the Underground!” Jareth retorted and both cousins were mere inches from one another. “Hundreds would die and Jaron would not want that.”

“How would you know what your brother wanted? You never asked him!” Rowan snarled, clenching her fists. “He knew you only considered him a nuisance.”

Jareth grew pale with rage. “How dare yo-“

“Why don’t you guys just kidnap him?” A new voice joined the argument and both Fae looked towards the doorway where Sarah stood watching them with an amused look on her face. Ashe was seated at her feet, watching them with an entertained smirk.

Rowan cocked one eyebrow. “This must be Sarah. I have heard much about you, Lady Sarah.”

“That’s funny… I just learned about you today.” Sarah gave Jareth a sharp look.

Rowan laughed. “That’s because Jareth hates me. Even though we be family, we do not get along. Mainly ‘cause he is a stubborn and pig-headed lout.”

“If you did bring to mind the visions of a vile-tongued harpy then I’d be more inclined to associate with you.” Jareth retorted. 

Rowan chose to ignore him and gave Sarah a bemused look. “You mentioned kidnappin’ to save me cousin. Pray tell, what do you mean?”

Sarah shrugged. “Can’t we just hire some guys to sneak in there and get him?”

“That is a rather interestin’ idea…” Rowan replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I shall have to think about this.”

“Why are you here, Rowan?” Jareth asked, still unhappy about his throne.

She cocked one eyebrow at him. “Am I in need of an excuse to come visit my aunt and cousins?”

“When it’s my castle you do.” Jareth growled.

“Very well. I wanna be part of the plans to save Jaron. You know that I’m a valuable resource, Jareth.” Rowan replied, matter-of-factly. “I’ve allies in every Bone Carver’s Guild. Even those of the Unseelie. I want to help bring him home. I’ll even ride to Magesblood and bring him back myself if I have to.”

“What does Roland think of this?” Jareth asked, casually.

She scoffed and waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. “Roland does not think of much at all these days. He is continually drunk and in the arms of the fairy folk. They are hidin’ him in the Wood from the courtiers. It is said that even Trog may leave my brother’s side since he has no sense left. The loss of Jaron has affected many, Goblin King.”

He frowned. “You don’t think I know that?”

“Enough!” Sarah stepped in between the two of them before they would start bickering again. “You are acting like children!”

She glared at the pair of stunned Fae and put her hands on her hips in the most menacing fashion she could muster. “If you would stop your bickering for more than ten seconds, then maybe you both could put your heads together and think of someway to save Jaron, but you won’t stop fighting long enough to even breathe properly! You are both being silly.”

She shook her head and turned to leave the astound pair of Fae. “I’m going to talk to Ludo, he’s the only one around here that makes any sense!”

* * *

A rooster crowed and Alyx’s eyes snapped open. Predawn’s light filtered through the stable walls. She sat up quickly, remembering her very vivid dream and nearly banged her head on the underside of the wagon. Grumbling at herself for her overactive imagination, she rose to get the horses tethered to the wagon, and be off. As she gathered her belongings and moved to make ready for the day, she did not notice the jasmine petals, nestled in the straw of her makeshift bed.

After getting the horses ready, she decided to go find Morven. Avoiding the puddles and ruts in the muddy road, she made her way back to the pub. When she strode in the doors, she found them still cleaning from last night’s festivities and looked around for Morven. Grumbling when she realized that he was still asleep, she went to the elf cleaning the bar. 

“Where’s the bloke that I was with last night? He was stayin’ with that nymph tendin’ bar last night.” Alyx asked, gruffly.

He snickered. “Asleep. Him and Heather are still abed.”

“Oh?’ Alyx’s eyes twinkled. “Then I’ll be needin’ ya to take him a message. Tell him that his elf left… With his wagon.”  
Alyx turned on one heel and strode back to the stables, furious at Morven. She swung herself up into the buckboard and took the reigns. As she clucked to the horses, she heard a window open above her and Morven was hanging his head out, looking worried. He was shirtless and holding what she suspected was a wool blanket around his waist.

“What in the name of Davey Jones’s Locker do ya think yer doin’?” Morven asked. “I’m not ready to go yet.”

Alyx glowered at him. “I am.”

Leaning against the window sill, he smirked. “Yer just mad ‘cause I made ya sleep in the stables.”

“Get your rat ass down here or I’m heading back to Amarantha!” Alyx snarled and he laughed. He disappeared in the window and she waited, grumbling. Within a few minutes, he strode out the door and swung himself up onto the seat.

“Carry on.” He smirked and waved his hand at her rather gallantly.

She ignored him and they left Balfor. Muddy roads made the trip slow going, but Morven’s spirits were up after his pleasurable evening. The pirate ignored Alyx’s grumbles until they made it to the old mining trails that would bring them into Bergtroll. The mud turned to stone and they were able to gain back time they had lost. It was then that he swatted her with his gloves.

“Who pissed in yer boots this mornin’?” Morven asked, a grin upon his face. He held his arms out wide. “The sun is shinin’ and it be a glorious day!”

“I slept in a stable all night long, Morven. I’ve good reason to be cranky!” Alyx retorted.

‘No, yer _exceptionally_ cranky today.”

“I had bad dreams. “Alyx replied, curtly.

“About what?”

“Isn’t that Bergtroll?” Alyx replied, changing the subject. She pointed ahead where the giant stone city loomed in the distance.

Morven squinted and shrugged. “Yeah, but you didn’t answer my question. What did you have bad dreams about?”

Alyx frowned. “I don’t know… The normal things you have nightmares about I suppose.”

“Like?”

“Well, don’t you ever have nightmares?” Alyx asked.

“”Course I do, but I’m sure they aren’t that same things that you dream about.” Morven explained. “Mine usually involve women… And curses… And a severe deficit of rum.”

Alyx rolled her eyes. “I might have known. That seems to be the root of most of your troubles.”

“Yer quite good at changin’ the subject, you know.” Morven retorted with a knowing smile.

“I do what I can.” Alyx dug for an apple in her pack.

“Fine… I’ll leave you alone.” Morven said and began to study their surroundings.

Alyx chewed on her apple for awhile in silence and Morven shot her a strange look. She frowned as she tossed the core away. “What?”

“What _were_ your dreams about?”

Alyx replied as she urged the horses on. “Drop it.”

“Fine.” Morven replied, realizing it was a lost subject. They rode in silence for the next few hours until they neared the city. Morven took the reigns and sat up in his seat. “Remember, just follow me… and keep yer deadlights open, kiddo.”

She tightened her muffler around her face and swallowed, hard, as they neared the massive gates made of carved dragon bones. Skulls lined the road that led to the city and torches smoked all around this dark place of doom and despair. They paused before the gates and a troll hung his head out the watchtower window.

“What do you want?” He snarled around his curved tusks.

“Hopefully a little bit o’ business an’ pleasure.” Morven replied, jovially.

The troll snorted and gave the call to open the gates. Morven have him a nod and clucked at the horses as they rode through the gates and into Bergtroll. The streets were truly lined with the bones of King Narg’s enemies as Quigli had told Alyx. The very road gleamed with the white of bones. Morven drove the horses on and towards the marketplace. As they entered Alyx saw a troll skinning something that still squirmed and shrieked to their right while three others fought over a bag of chickens to their left. Most of the marketplace dealt with either meat or weapons. Morven headed for a looming building down the road, where a troll sat out front with a booth filled with all kinds of oddities. It gave them a snaggle-toothed grin as it saw them approach. He came around to greet them as Morven drew the horses to a stop.

“Hello pirate. You are early.” He grunted.

“Wind was at our backs.” Morven replied. “You be Sarrg then?”

“Suppose so… Come on inside then. Let them unload it.” Sarrg waved towards another pair of trolls who went to work unloading the wagon. “Follow me.”

Morven and Alyx followed the ugly troll inside the grimy shop, where it went straight for a cluttered countertop and began to dig around. Alyx walked around one side of the store, one hand upon the hilt of her sword, and studying the things floating in jars on the shelves.

“Ah. Here.” The troll grunted as it found what it was looking for. “Here is your money, ship rat.”

The troll tossed a small bag of coins to Morven.

“Ho? What’s this?!” Morven looked disgusted. “I bring ya genuine dragon’s blood and ya give me pocket change for it? Have yer men load me cargo back onto my wagon! I’m findin’ me another buyer.”

Sarrg growled and poked Morven hard in the shoulder. “Shut yer blubbering mouth, ship rat.”

“I will not, you festerin’ pimple!” Morven snarled. “I demand triple what ya just gave me.”

“Cap’n-“ Alyx grasped his arm, trying to calm him, but he shook her off.

“You’ll take what I give you and not a penny more.” Sarrg ordered. “You do that and I’ll let you leave with your lives as well.”

“You vile little snot!” Morven roared.

“Morven!” Alyx hissed.

“Shut yer hole!” The troll snarled and raised its fist.

Morven drew his sword. “I’ll kill you!”

With a roar, Sarrg swung his fist at Morven ducked, barely avoiding a death blow. Alyx drew her blade and Morven threw her a glance.

“Get outta here, kid!” Morven ordered.

Alyx froze, not wanting to leave him. Sarrg snarled and swung again, knocking Morven to the floor. A dazed Morven listened to the sound of clashing steel as more trolls arrived and attacked Alyx. He looked about in a daze, and saw Alyx fighting off a troll to his left. Then Morven was kicked hard against one wall. When he regained consciousness again, he could hear the trolls speaking above him.

“Send message to King Narg. Tell him we have a new toy for his dungeons!” Sarrg ordered. “The rest of you find that elf and kill him!”

Morven groaned in pain and the blackness took him. 

* * *

Alyx ran away from the stall after battling with one of the trolls and slipping past the others. She ran down into an alley and hid as the royal guard thundered by, heading for the shop. Then she saw them dragging Morven away from the shop and towards the castle. She followed them until they reached the palace gates and then she watched in horror as they took him to the dungeons.

“Morven, you foolish ass!” She cursed and bit her lip. How was she going to get them out of this? She huddled against the wall and rested her head on her knees, trying to come up with a plan


	5. The Lost and the Lonely

Carefully constructing the snowball in her heavily gloved hands, Sarah peered over the wall of her snow fort in hopes of finding a worthy target. Ashe sat beside her in the snow, giving exaggerated shivers and clucking despondently about the cold. Sarah tossed him a sour look and carefully placed the snowball next to about a dozen or so others in a small pile at her feet. Pausing to let down the heavy hood of her woolen cloak, she gave Ashe a loving pat upon the head.

“Don’t be such a party pooper. It’s not that cold.”

He mewed, miserably.

“You big baby.” Sarah replied, good-naturedly, and went back to making snowballs. They had a prescheduled snowball fight with Ludo and Didymus that afternoon and she wanted to be ready. Somehow the pair of ‘brothers’ managed to form into a nearly unstoppable team when it came to winter sports. Hearing the crunch of footfalls upon the snow, she raised up hurriedly, her arm ready to launch the snowball she had currently made. “Ah-hah!”

She frowned when she saw that it was merely a confused Jiera before her, dressed in white furs. Sarah lowered her arm. “Oh… Sorry… Thought you were Didymus.”

“What in the name of little Jackie Frost are you doing?” Jiera asked, quizzically.

“Oh, we’re gonna have a snowball fight. It’s an Aboveground game.” Sarah smiled and added the snowball to the small arsenal at her feet. “How are you today?”

Jiera shrugged. “Better… Yuletide always seems to brighten my spirits a bit.”

“Yeah… As we speak, Jareth’s supervising the goblins as they decorate the throne room. I wanted _absolutely_ no part of that.”

“Word amongst the staff is that he has already bogged thirty-six goblins since lunch.” Jiera smiled rather wistfully.

“He misses you, Jiera. Won’t you talk to him?” Sarah asked, carefully.

“No.” Jiera replied, harshly. “I cannot.”

Sarah snorted. “More like you _will_ not.”

Jiera gave her a glare rather similar to Jareth’s. “It would be wise for you to learn when to hold your tongue.”

“And it would be wise of you to talk to your oldest son.” Sarah countered. “Just because I’m telling you the harsh truth, doesn’t mean you get to go all high and mighty on me.”

Jiera gave a frustrated huff. “Well, it’s not as if I haven’t heard the pair of you in a continuous row all week then?”

Sarah shrugged. “Yeah, well he’s been crabby because you won’t talk to him and because I asked for a sword for Christmas.”

“You mean to blame your fights on-“ Jiera’s eyes quirked in surprise. “A sword? You’ve asked for a sword?”

“Yep.” Sarah continued to make her ammo. “Rowan’s gonna show me some of the basics of fencing.”

“I have always liked you because of that fire.” Jiera’s smile returned to her face. “I am sorry that I was rude. I do miss my son, but the wound of his deed is still too raw for me to forgive. You must understand?”

Sarah nodded. “I can see how it would be hard to forgive him. He can be such a pig-headed twit sometimes.”

“Agreed. So what progress has he made in returning Jaron?”

“Well, he got a lot outta that djinn in the wine bottle about dark curses… Yesterday, that fanged grimoire bit him, so he put it in an oubliette for a few days until he cools off. He’s trying, Jiera… Everyone is.”

“I know…” The queen knelt and picked up a handful of snow. Mimicking Sarah’s movements, she helped the young woman make her ammunition. “Have you decided upon a christening date?”

“Right after the new year.” Sarah replied. “I wanna do it here… Nothin’ too fancy.”

“You know my mother and father won’t hear of that. You are practically the Goblin Queen now, my dear. Your christening should be the event of the year. They’ll want it held in Sheridan’s Field and everyone of the Seelie Court should be in attendance.”

“Yeah, Jareth mentioned that when we were arguing earlier.” Sarah replied, wryly. “I don’t want all that. All the people blathering on and on and on about nonsense all day… No thanks.”

“Oh, and what kind of christening did you have in mind?” Jiera asked.

“Something simple… Something where right afterwards I don’t have to play hostess for three hours. I just want to be with my friends.”

Jiera wrinkled her nose and gave the girl a small smile. “I would have to agree. That sounds much better than the Quadirian circus that the last christening around here was.”

* * *

When Morven awoke, he was in a dungeon cell and chained to the wall. He moaned at his throbbing head and looked around for Alyx. She was no where in his sight. She must have gotten away. Morven rested against the wall of his cell with a sigh. This ranked right up there in the top ten stupidest things he had ever done. He shouldn’t have tried to have it out with that merchant, but who knew the ugly troll was King Narg’s second cousin? Grumbling he rattled his chains and then he heard a soft voice mumbling. It came from the cell next to his. Morven turned to peer through the small peephole between their two small cells.

“…shadows.” The hoarse voice muttered in the dark of the cell.

“Oy, there matey… Hello?” Morven called out and peered down the peephole. “Is someone over there?”

A shape moved in front of the hole and Morven strained to see in the dark when a bright green eye came into view.

“Yes.” The voice whispered. “Who are you?”

“Morven Squall. Who are you?”

“No one that matters…” The eye disappeared and the distant muttering began again. Morven leaned back from the hole, confused.

“Don’t mind ‘im.” A gruff voice stated from the back of Morven’s cell. “Half crazed that one is. Wakes up screamin’ most the time.”

Morven turned to see a faun seated at the back of the room, concealed in the straw. Morven straightened himself. “Oh, hello… Didn’t notice ya there, matey.”

“The less you are noticed, the better ‘round these parts.” The faun jerked his head towards the other cell. “He’s an important prisoner, he is. They don’t forget about him… ‘Tis a victim on loan from Queen Mab herself.”

Morven looked around the cell. “Well, how do we get out of here?”

“We don’t.” The faun replied and snuggled back under the straw. “Now be quiet before they hear you and come-“

The door to the cell swung open with a bang and a large troll grabbed Morven by the hair. Morven grunted in pain and fought against his attacker while the troll tried to unchain him. Then came a great commotion from the cell next door and the troll looked up sharply towards the wall. With a grunt, it released Morven. It staggered out and slammed their cell door shut behind him, heading for the neighboring cell.

Morven scrambled to the peephole and this time a blue eye appeared.

“Stay quiet!” A voice hissed and then the eye was gone as the troll dragged the occupant from the cell.

The faun peered out from his straw and whispered. “He saved you. He does that a lot to keep them from hurting others… They’ll really hurt him, you know.”

Morven nodded in shock and leaned back against the wall. He looked to the faun peering from the straw. “What the name and the crime, mate?”

“Tiburre Pansflute of Thaw. I was captured a long time ago in the Red Snow Northlands as a new pet for a rich troll’s wife. She tired of me and claimed I stole her silver. Then I was thrown in here… You?”

“Morven Squall… I picked the _wrong_ troll to sell the _wrong_ cargo to. Did ya, happen to notice if they brought an elf in here with me?”

“All I’ve seen is you.” The faun shrugged. “Perhaps your friend escaped.”

Morven looked up at the small barred window at the top of their cell where the moon shone in full and bright. “Aye… Perhaps.”

* * *

Fencing. That blasted mortal had taken up fencing!

Jareth fumed as he lounged in his new throne, one leg thrown, casually, over the arm. He tapped his riding crop against his thigh in an agitated manner as he remembered finding first Sarah and Rowan fencing in the ballroom. He knew he should not have let Rowan stay in the Labyrinth after what she had done to his throne, but Sarah’s speech had intrigued him. That is, until today. He had just returned from a lengthy trip in Merial, where he and his grandfather had been going over plans for the Yuletide season, when he stumbled across the pair mid-practice in the ballroom. In quite certain terms, he informed her that she was to cease and desist such actions at once. Then she told him that she wanted to learn and wanted a blade for Yuletide. He then informed her that there was no chance in hell she’d ever be in position that she needed to know anything about swordplay and it was a waste of her time. She then proceeded to tell him where to shove it. With that crude Aboveground insult, she retreated to her room and slammed the door in his face.

Jareth rubbed his nose from where the door had hit him and frowned. Of course, Rowan then came to him and started running off at the mouth about how every woman should know how to protect themselves. Jareth merely waved one hand and bogged her to rid him self of the harpy. He swore he could hear her screams of outrage all the way from the Bog.

It was then that the doors to his throne room opened and Jareth was surprised to see King Theoden enter, leaning heavily on his staff. Phuong flew in behind him and rested on the nearest window ledge, his heavy eyes upon his master. Theoden stopped before Jareth and his watery eyes rose to take in the Goblin King. Jareth sat up, quickly, noticing how in a matter of a few days the older king seemed to have aged, drastically.

“Theoden, what-“

“He has defected… My youngest son has left us and all for the Dark Court. It happened this very afternoon.” Theoden sigh, wearily. “He denies me as his father and renounced his titles. Within the hour, he was made nobility under Mab in her Unseelie Court… He has become her Dark Duke of the Sluagh.”

Jareth sighed. “I am sorry, old friend.”

“No, at least one good thing shall come of this!” Theoden replied, vehemently. “Oberon has exonerated your brother of all charges. The truth is known now that my son was the true culprit.”

Jareth leaned back in the throne, heavily. This, of course, was good news for his brother, but terrible news for his friend. He could tell that Theoden’s son’s defection had taken its toll on the old king. “Is there anything I can do for you, my friend? Do you need someone to handle your affairs in Bethmoora?”

Theoden waved one hand, dismissively. “Annibal’s been practically running the kingdom for decades. I have my time to grieve. At least I have one good son, eh? For years I have turned one blind eye to my youngest son’s cruelty and the other to my eldest son’s honor. I am glad that now I can truly see.”

Phuong came to land, with care, upon Theoden’s brow, and morph into the phoenix crown. Theoden smiled, softly, and straightened himself. His eyes returned to Jareth. “Bring your brother home, friend… And keep those you love safe.”

The old king turned, leaving Jareth to his thoughts. Jareth could hear the pair begin to squabble even before they left the throne room and a small smile drifted over his face. With time, his friend would be happy again. His thoughts drifted to Sarah and how if Ramsden was no longer under the umbrella of the Golden Court, then he could hurt her in the name of the Unseelie. As a mortal, she was entirely too fragile for this world. Perhaps her idea of a quick christening was the best route to take.

Twisting one wrist, he produced a crystal and ordered. “Show me the girl.”

After ascertaining her location, Jareth transported himself to her. She was shucking off a rather wet woolen coat and chastising that flying rat for something. He gave a sharp smile as he appeared in her quarters.

“I do rather enjoy hearing you yell at that _thing_ rather than myself.” He purred.

Sarah turned and gave him a venomous look. “I love you, but I reserve the right to not like you right now.”

Hanging her coat by the fireplace to dry, she gave Ashe a gentle scratch under the chin as he curled up before fire. After she turned back to Jareth, Ashe gave him a sharp hiss. Jareth frowned in response.

Sarah raised her chin, defiantly. “I’m keeping on with the lessons. Rowan said that if we ever can find Roland and get him sobered up, that he’ll teach me. She said he’s really good and I want to learn, Jareth. I don’t like being defenseless.”

One of Jareth’s eyebrows quirked. “Is that right?”

She nodded, feeling very proud of herself. “Yes.”

“Very well. I shall see if a smithy in Merial can fashion you a decent blade.”

“And I- Wait… What?”

“I’d prefer if you allowed me to send for an instructor. Admittedly, Roland is one of the best fencers that I have ever had the privilege if sparring with and he would make a find instructor, but he is rather… misplaced at the moment.”

Sarah cocked one eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

He nodded as he sat down upon her bed. “Until we are able to locate my wayward cousin, will you settle for an instructor from Merial? Fencing is a rather dangerous art, precious, and I’d rather see someone skilled supervising you if you are going to take it up.”

“Okay, you are kissing entirely too much ass… What do you want?” Sarah asked, slightly concerned for his sudden change of heart.

“To put an end to these fights between us.” Jareth admitted, truthfully.

“Jareth… That’s one thing about us that I don’t think will ever change…” Sarah replied, softly and took his gloved hand into hers. She gave him a warm smile. “Besides… What fun would we be?”

He gave a throaty chuckle. “I suppose you have a point… I do rather enjoy the- What do you mortals call it? Oh, yes… The make-up sex.” A rather devious grin spread across Jareth’s face and he pulled her down into his lap. Leaning in close, he caught her lips with his and her thin arms wrapped around his neck to reciprocate. He broke the kiss long enough to breath against her lips. “Let’s do your christening on Yuletide.”

She leaned back to look at him in shock. “But I thought your family wante-“

“Family be damned. I want you safe and your christening is the best way to do that. Too long you have traipsed our world as a mortal. Magic will keep you safe, where I cannot.”

“What brought about this change of heart?” Sarah asked.

“Ramsden has defected to the Unseelie Court this very afternoon. My brother has been exonerated of all charges.” Jareth replied. “I want you safe and if that means, heavens help us all, giving you a sword and magic… Then I shall take that risk.”

“Thanks.” Sarah replied, dryly.

“You are most welcome.”

* * *

Alyx began to skulk outside of the castle gates that very night, searching for a way into the dungeons to find Morven. She feared being alone in this hostile city, but, thankfully, her Genki appearance made most rather nervous about approaching the possibly aggressive elf. After circling the massive palace five times and finding no way in, she gave up and perched across the street in an alley to watch the gates. She had lost most of her possessions in the scuffle of the sell of the cargo that day, but she still had a little bit of gold and her sword. She used some of the gold to buy herself some food in the market. Then she searched for a place to make her bed for the evening. Finding a set of rundown stables nearby, she curled up in the straw, resting for the next day.

Rising early the next morning, she went back to the castle, watching as trolls and others of the Unseelie came and went through the massive gates. As the sun began to set on the second day, she began to lose hope. That’s when she noticed the coming and going of the dwarfish monks. They were well practiced healers and in charge of keeping Narg’s torture victims alive. Each of the little robed men had full access to the dungeons. A smile crept to her face as she planned her rescue of her Captain, but she knew she needed to test her theory first. It took little work to will her shoes to garb her in a similar robes and she joined their numbers as they filed into the dungeons to heal the torture victims in the dusk hours.

* * *

The trolls did not overlook Morven as easily as they had before. He was awakened, early, everyday, and taken straight to the torture chambers. Before lunch he would be beaten, whipped, and burned by the trolls of Narg’s dungeon. Even the Troll King himself had made his way to the dungeons to strike the whip upon Morven’s raw and bleeding back. Viscous as the trolls were, they knew that their captives had to be alive to feel pain, so they kept healers at ready. Once Morven was tossed back in his cell every evening, a healer would come and tend to his wounds. After a particularly long torture session, he was cast back into his room, and, as customary, a healer was sent to him. He groaned as gentle fingers tended to the wounds on his back and soft hands turned him over. Then a rather agitated voice hissed his name in the dark.

Morven focused his eyes on the figure in robes before him. “How do ya know me?”

“It’s me, you great blundering fool!” Alyx drew back the hood enough so Morven could see her face. “Yer mad, Morven! Picking a fight with Narg’s favorite cousin and what over? Of all things in the Underground it had to be over illegal cargo! This is some pickle you got us in this time…”

“How was I to know that toad was the King’s favorite cousin?” Morven looked around, warily. “How the bloody hell did you get here?”

“With a little luck and skill.” Alyx grumbled as she tended his wounds. “I have snuck in this once Morven, so I know that I can manage it again. Next time, I shall take you with me when I leave.”

“Belay that. Head for the Genkis and get the others.” Morven ordered. “Yer no match for trolls, bucko! They’re all over these blasted dungeons.”

“I’ll take care of the trolls.” Alyx’s eyes flashed in the dark. “Be ready… We shall be taking leave of Bergtroll the next time you see me.”

Morven drifted back into unconsciousness and when he awoke, he wondered if it had been only a dream that Alyx had come to him. He rolled over to see the faun staring at him from its bed of straw.

“You slept for a long time.” The faun said. “You friend was worried before he left.”

“Aneurin was here then? I didn’t dream it?”

The faun nodded. “I have not seen him since. He could have been captured while leaving, but who knows?”

Morven rubbed his sore neck and leaned against the wall. He peered through the peephole but saw and heard nothing. “And our neighbor?”

“Has not returned.” The faun snuggled back into his straw. “Not since that day when you arrived… If he’s lucky, then he’s dead.”

* * *

It took no less than twenty-three goblins to help haul the Yule log into the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, but it only took one little pyromaniac (possibly the same one who caught the stone maze ablaze) to get it lit. Sarah was rather impressed as she and Ashe watched the poor little creatures drag/roll the giant log towards the fireplace. It had been entertaining to watch the horde of squabbling goblins fight against the log and one another. Ashe watched the fiasco with bright eyes and small squawks that could only be interpreted as laughter. After she was assured that the log was lit and no harm came to the dim witted creatures, she went back to her room to get her head together. She felt uneasy and quite nervous for that evening Jorall was to christen her. She supposed it was only last minute jitters that rattled her nerves, but it made her uneasy just the same. She felt like there was a black cloud brewing her direction.

Though it was hours later it felt like only mere minutes before Jareth came to collect her for the simple christening ceremony. She had donned a simple white dress that was spun of silk from Xanthe Fai with a golden chain cinched at her waist and had wrapped her catskin around her shoulders. She was more than a little nervous when they met with his family in the library. Jorall stood by the fire, a lopsided smile on his face as she approached. She cocked one eyebrow as he took her hand into his.

“Don’t worry.” Jorall gave her a roguish wink and whispered. “I’ve had lessons. Won’t be as half-cocked as before.”

Sarah laughed, the once mortal king lightening her mood. The simple ceremony flew by and before she knew it Jorall was quoting the last of the incantation. She gasped as she felt the magic course through her veins and settle deep within her heart. One hand fluttered to her chest and her eyes closed as she took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t painful, but it felt different.

“Are you okay, lovely?” Jorall’s voice sounded worried, so she opened her eyes. He smiled back when he saw her irises change to a silvery emerald. “Welcome to magic, kiddo.”

She gave him a warm smile as Jareth wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her neck.

* * *

The air hung dark and thick over Bergtroll. ‘Twas even the kind of night the Unseelie worried about losing their souls to the Wild Hunt. Unspeakable things happened behind closed doors, while a stealthy figure in black slipped through the shadows. It stopped before the solid door of the troll Sarrg’s shop. Nimble fingers made short work of the lock, and entered the quiet building.

Moonlight cut a harsh glare across Alyx’s hardened face as she moved silently towards the stairs that would take her to the troll’s living quarters. Ascending them two a time, she was gladdened to hear the troll’s heavy snores from the room above. When she peaked through the keyhole, she saw Sarrg, passed out upon a bed of mangy furs. Wrinkling her nose, slightly, at the smell, she pulled her muffler over her face and opened the door, slowly. She crossed to the bed, drawing a short and wickedly curved blade from her waist. Pressing the tip to his meaty throat, she narrowed her eyes.

“Wake up.” She ordered. His eyes snapped open and she dug the tip of the blade in, ceasing his struggles. “Oy! That’ll be enough of that, matey.”

“You!” He snarled. “If yer lookin’ for your friend-”

She dug the blade in a little more and her eyes flashed. “Keep it down, will ya? You might wake yer neighbors.”

“What’ll you do to me then?” He asked with a smirk. “Killin’ me won’t get yer friend outta of Narg’s Prison.”

“It might.”

He frowned. “Yer crazy, elf.”

“Oh, Aye.” She agreed with a sharp nod. “Now, first things first, ya bloated tank of bilge water. Ya tried to screw me an’ me mate an’ I’ll be wantin’ our gold.”

Sarrg protested. “I don’t have an-“

“Belay that! Where be it, troll?” She dug in the blade and a thin line of blood oozed. “Choose yer words carefully.”

“Downstairs in the coffers… Under the desk.”

“Any other valuables, I’ll be needin’ tonight?”

His eyes flicked across the room to a wardrobe in one corner. She followed his gaze and nodded.

“Fair enough.” She looked back to him. “As I studied the oddities of yer shop, I says to meself, ‘Self… A troll in his position has likely come across a few rarities I be seekin’.’ I’ll be takin’ ‘em when I go…”

“Just kill me and get on with it!” Sarrg snarled.

She smirked. “As you wish.”

Raising her sword, she thumped him upside the head with the hilt as hard as she could. She spared no muscle in knocking him unconscious. There was no way his blood was going to be on her hands this night. Humming, she made her way to the wardrobe and made quick work of the padlock. She grabbed a few of the bottles, some labeled as poisons and others as potions and a good amount of the jewels stored there. She also managed to find her pack amongst the things the troll had stolen from them. Leaving the troll’s room, she went to collect their money and then her captain.

A short time later, there was a resounding knock upon the door to the dungeons of Bergtroll and when the Dungeon Master ambled to the door, he saw no one. Scratching his head, he almost shut the door, but he looked down at his feet to find a great barrel of ale with a letter attached. He jerked it off and squinted in the light to read the scrawled script.

“Keep up the good work… King Narg…” The dim-witted troll grunted and shrugged. He dragged the barrel inside with him and the trolls of the dungeon began to drink to their fill. Hours later every troll in the dungeon was dead, poisoned by the brew in the barrel. Alyx came to the door in her healer’s robes and tiptoed around the bodies on the floor. It bothered her little to poison these trolls for she knew that they had hurt many in their dark dungeon. Stopping at the Dungeon Master, she bent and took the cell keys from his corpse. She then went straight to Morven’s cell, unlocking the door. Morven glanced up as she entered.

His eyes went wide. “How in the blaz-“

“Come on!” Alyx hissed, bending to unlock his chains. She moved over then to the faun and tossed him the keys. “Free yourself, faun.”

She went back to Morven and helped her wounded Captain to his feet. He moaned in pain as they made their way out of the dungeons and towards the exit. As they reached the door, Alyx froze as she heard heavy footfalls approaching the dungeons. She cursed and began to drag Morven towards the back of the dungeons where there was an opening to the mines.

“Not the mines!” Morven grunted. “We’ll die in there!”

“We’ll die _here_!” Alyx retorted as she grabbed a torch and began to drag him deep into the honeycombed tunnels. Holding her torch at the entrance of the many tunnels, she followed where fresh wind made the flames dance. It wasn’t long before they heard the roar of the trolls when they found their dead comrades. When she heard the echoes of their cries, Alyx pressed on at a swifter pace and forced Morven to stumble along with her.

“Do ya even know where you’re goin’?” Morven asked, wearily.

“These mines have a backdoor that comes out in the Red Snow Northlands. We’ll make a run for Thaw.” Alyx grit her teeth against her straining muscles and pulled on.

“Ya had this escape route planned the whole trip, did ya?” Morven asked with a weak grin.

“Ever since I found out that it was illegal to sell dragon’s blood in Bergtroll.” Alyx replied, wryly. What she failed to tell him, originally it was the Goblin Prince she had hoped to be saving with this plan. That was until Morven had gotten himself captured.

“Yer smart… For a kid.” Morven grunted.

“That’s what they tell me.”

Long and wretched howls came in the darkness. The trolls had released werewolves into the mines to find them. Alyx froze, listening to their howls echo though the tunnels. Morven cursed and tried to get her to let go of him.

“Leave me!” He ordered. “Trolls are one thing, but werewolves? I’m useless for battle and yer no match for ‘em alone!”

“I’m not afraid.” Alyx tried to get him to follow her, but he resisted.

“They’ll kill you! Leave me!” Morven jerked from her and fell against one wall of the mine.

“Morven-“ Alyx paused, listening.

“Get outta here, kid!”

“No.” Alyx’s hand, slowly, moved towards her blade as she heard the beasts approaching in the dark. Drawing her sword, she turned, thrusting out her torch so she could face her attackers. The flickering torch light caught three pairs of amber eyes in the darkness. A trio of rabid werewolves made their way out of the darkness and towards her, saliva dripping from their snarling mouths. They were great beasts that loped along in a hunched gait. Their razor sharp claws were hand-like on the front paws and they were much bigger than any wolf Alyx had ever seen and covered in coarse black fur. As they approached, they attempted to circle her and even snipped at one another.

Alyx readied her sword, waiting for one to lunge at her first. They only growled and when none made the first move, she did. Muttering a spell over the torch, she caused it to blaze, blinding the werewolves for a moment. Her sword lashed out at the one nearest to her and she slit its throat. It collapsed, blood staining the rock floors as its body twitched once and then lay still. The remaining pair growled at the loss of their comrade and began to advance. Alyx lunged for the one and sliced open it’s snout with her sword, bringing a yelping snarl from the beast. The other leapt forward, gasping her cloak in its teeth and shaking its great head. Its front claws came up to tug and tear at the cloth. Her torch flew from her grip as she struggled to keep her footing against the beast. Alyx yelled and stabbed her sword down into its face, killing the beast.

The other werewolf took the opportunity to attack, jumping upon her back, and throwing her face first into the dirt. Alyx screamed and fought to roll away from its snapping jaws as hot, frothy saliva dripped down on her neck. The werewolf’s claws tore at her clothes and skin, drawing bloody welts upon her back and shoulders. Then she heard the beast scream in pain and felt hot ash upon her skin. The great weight of the werewolf was gone and Morven was there with the now almost ruined torch in his hand as he tried to help her to her feet. She looked over and saw where Morven had shoved the torch into the werewolf’s face and then killed it with her sword.

“C’mon kid. They’ll send more and soon.”

Alyx got to her feet and began to help him limp though the passage. They traveled, swiftly, in the maze of tunnels, following the breeze of air that promised to them an exit of some kind from the deadly tunnels. They could hear the outraged roars of the trolls when they found their werewolves, slaughtered, so they tried to pick up their pace. After a great time of searching, Alyx could see a faint light in the distance. She half-dragged a weary Morven towards cavern entrance only to have the way blocked by a pair of the biggest trolls she had ever seen. Standing before them, she barely came to their torsos.

“Where are you off to, runt?” The one on the right asked her and spat a large green blob upon the floor.

“Yeah?” The one on the left agreed and crossed his arms over his massive chest.

Alyx let Morven slump to the floor and drew her sword again, wearily. The troll on the right grinned and began to swing his great morning star. Alyx swallowed hard, hefted her sword, and took off towards the pair with an ear piecing battle cry. Morven couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched the young girl race towards certain death. As she neared the smirking trolls, she swung her sword as hard as she could, severing Righty’s weapon wielding arm. The great morning star and the troll’s arm crashed to the floor as he screamed in agony and clasped at his bleeding stump. As Alyx turned to take her sword at the left hand troll, he gave out a roar of outrage and swung his great fist, throwing her hard against the cavern wall. She struggled to get to her feet as the great lumbering troll approached her, tightening his fist to crush her.

Alyx cried out, casting a random spell. The morning star began to swing wildly in the air, striking the troll that attacked her. It connected with a wet thud as it crushed the troll’s skull. Righty screamed at the death of his friend and rushed at her. She dove through the dirt and between his large legs. When she turned to face his now retreating form, she thrust her blade up and through the small of his back, the tip bursting through his chest bone. The great troll gurgled and collapsed at her feet. Placing one booted foot against its back, she jerked her sword free. Morven watched with wide eyes as she wiped her blade off on the troll’s coarse hair before returning the blade to its sheath. She limped back towards Morven and stumbled to her knees. Her face was bloody from the troll’s hard hit and she was bruising, rapidly. The pirate mustered up all of his own strength and went to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and got her to her feet. She wrapped an arm around his neck and together they exited the cave, stepping into the swirling snow of the Red Snow Northlands.

“Welcome to the Northlands, lass.” Morven gave her a gentle squeeze. “Oh an’ Happy Yuletide.”

She gave him a weary smile. “It is Christmas isn’t it? Merry Christmas, Morven.”

The pair began to trudge through the foothills and to the frozen tundra. It wasn’t very long before it became evident that neither was in any shape to walk and would never make it to the next village before they froze or bled to death. Morven found a small grove of trees and they rested at the base of the largest one. He wrapped an arm around Alyx’s bloody shoulders, trying to keep the girl warm.

“Are we close?” She asked, weakly, her lips blue. “Are we close to Thaw, Morven?”

He shook his head. “No lass. We’re not.”

Tears came to her eyes and as they made their way down her cheeks, they froze. Morven brushed one away with his numb fingers and huddled the girl closer to him.

“I didn’t take those last two trolls into account for my escape plan, Morven.” Alyx whispered as she shivered against him. “We’re been fine if I hadn’t gotten myself hurt so bad back there.”

“Belay that. Save yer strength.” Morven replied. “We’ll be fine.”

“I-‘

“Shh… Rest.”

* * *

“Love looks good on you, Sarah Williams.”

Gasping, Sarah spun around alarmed by this strange voice in her private quarters and one hand covered her thudding heart. After her christening, she had spent the evening with Jareth, learning simple spells. Before bed, she had come to her room to check on Ashe when she heard the voice. Lounged on the chaise at the end of Sarah’s bed was Morgan le Fey in a long silver gown made of chain mail. It clung to her like a second skin. Her dark hair had been dreadlocked with silver chains and her lips were painted so dark of a red that they appeared black in the candlelight.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, a little nervous of the Unseelie Sorceress. “Does Jareth know you’re here?”

“Should he?” Morgan asked, a smile playing at her lips.

“I would assume so… Since this is his castle.” Sarah retorted.

“Touché, my dear.” Morgan replied. “I hear tale that you were christened this evening. Such a charming Yuletide gift… That is good news.”

“Why do you care?”

Morgan chuckled. “You shall find that I lie in no areas of black and white, young one. Morgan takes care of Morgan, but I am happy to hear that the Goblin King has managed to bring you home. I came to congratulate you… and, more importantly… I came to bring you news of the Goblin Prince.”

Sarah’s heart leapt into her throat. “Jaron? Is he okay?”

“He has survived Bertroll… Barely.” Morgan pursed her lips. “He is foolish and is going to get himself killed with that sharp mouth of his. He kept King Narg’s torturers so busy that Narg requested that Mab take him back… Narg was neglecting his own prisoners for Jaron’s sake…”

“He’s been cleared of all the charges! Everyone knows what Ramsden did and there’s no reason why the Unseelie Court shouldn’t let him go!” Sarah replied, vehemently.

“Sarah, darling… Jaron is a mere slave without his magic.” Morgan stated, somberly. “He is nothing but a pretty pet within my court. He belongs to my Dark Queen and it is her who decides his freedom.”

“Will she free him?”

“Never.”

Sarah gave a frustrated huff and crossed her arms over her chest angrily. “Then Jareth and I should go and demand his release!”

Morgan chuckled. “You are so young, little Queen-to-be… There would be war and much death down that road.”

Sarah’s temper rose and as it did, so did her magic. The candle in the room began to flare and the fire in the hearth roared. Morgan cocked one eyebrow and soothed the flames with the wave of one hand.

“Steady as she goes, Sarah…” Morgan cautioned. “I’ve heard tale of your temper and the rows that you and Jareth engage in… Your anger will give you little control over your magic. It would be wise for you to meet my sister.”

“Your sister? Why would I-“

“Wyntr le Fey. Seek her in Sirrocco Forest… On Dragon’s Eye Island.

When you are ready to be a Queen, go to Wyntr… She has experience in the making of queens. It was she who taught the Empress Elora Danan how to rule Tir Asleen.”

“Who said I wanted to be a Queen?” Sarah asked. “I nev-“

“Do not deny your path, Sarah. You are destined to be the Goblin Queen.” Morgan interjected.  
Sarah sighed and gave a small nod. “I’m not ready for it.”

“You could be…”

A dark black crow fluttered into the room and alighted on Morgan’s outstretched hand. He squawked, agitatedly and Morgan’s face grew stony. She rose, the chains of her dress rattling, and the bird took off into the night.

“I must go. There has been a jailbreak to the North in Narg’s prison.” Morgan gave Sarah one last hard look. “You will be a great Queen someday.”

The winds whispered and Morgan was gone, leaving Sarah to her thoughts.

* * *

When it came time to reunite with the ship and their Captain and cabin boy did not return as planned, Krollin and Quigli became more than a little worried. The ship waited, docked in Shade’s Coast, for Alyx and Morven’s return, but Quigli and Krollin took off inland as fast as they could to search for their friends. They rode hard until they reached Thaw, but heard no immediate news from Bergtroll of their friends. A snowstorm ravaged the land and kept them in Thaw, indefinitely. They waited down in the pub and kept their ears open for any news from the troll city. They learned a little of Morven’s imprisonment, but nothing else.

Krollin and Quigli were by the fire and trying to devise a plan when they heard a pair of goblins arrive at the pub. Neither paid much attention to the small and cold creatures, as did few in the bar, except to grumble about the cold they let in with their arrival. The bartender served the goblins some ale and asked them where they had come from on such a snowy and miserable night.

“Bergtroll.” One answered, excitedly. “We was freed! There was a biggie jailbreak in the dungeons of King Narg’s!”

“You don’t say?” The bartender leaned in closer. “Who got out?”

“Everyone! The pair o’ us included. An elf killed twenty troll guards all by himself and then gave the dungeon master’s keys to a faun to free us all!” The other goblin replied.

The first raised his glass. “I drink to the elf, where ever he be!”

“He killed three werewolves and drew the trolls into mines for us to escape!” The first added and clinked mugs with his comrade to celebrate. “To the rescuing elf of Bergtroll! Cheers!”

Quigli gave Krollin a sharp look and grunted. “Sound like _our_ elf?”

Krollin nodded. “Very much like _our_ elf.”

“Where did this elf go?” The bartender asked the goblins. “Where is he now?”

The door to the pub burst open and the snow swirled around the bloody pair standing there. Morven had one of Alyx’s arms slung around his neck and he was dragging her unconscious form through the doorway.

“Oy, one of ya mangy dogs get me a healer!” Morven ordered to the bar, fiercely.

Krollin was on his feet in an instant and helping his Captain with their friend. Morven gave him a startled look and then a grateful smile.

“Perfect timing as usual, Krollin!” Morven chuckled and the bartender led them towards a room where they put the wounded girl. On their way, Morven grabbed a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar. Morven collapsed into a chair inside the room and took a long swallow from the bottle. Quigli examined Alyx’s numerous wounds.

“How bad is it?” Morven asked with a grimace as Krollin moved to tend his wounds. Morven shrugged him away. “I’m fine as pixie hair! Now, get offa me an help her!”

Quigli looked up at Morven, sharply. “Well, it’s not good, Morven. Some I’ll stitch, but there be a few I’ll be takin’ a hot blade to. Get me some more whiskey.”

The bartender moved, quickly, to get the things the dwarf required. Krollin produced a blade and moved to place it in the coals of the nearby fire. Quigli readied a needle and thread from his medical kit.

“Leave the bottle. The elf will want it when he wakes, I’ll warrant.” Quigli snorted at the bartender as he ran some of the whisky over his hands. Krollin took the bottle from the bartender and shoved the Fae out the door. He went back to the bed and helped Quigli clean her wounds. Her cloudy blue eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at them through her pain.

“Merry Christmas guys… Can I have a shot of that?” She asked, hoarsely, and pointed one finger towards the bottle of whiskey.

Morven rushed to oblige her, and poured the girl a healthy glass. “Down the hatch there, bucko… A hot knife is a good cause to drink.”

Alyx’s eyes widened as she saw the hot blade in Quigli’s hand and she realized they were going to cauterize her wounds. She swallowed most of the glass they handed her in one gulp. She grimaced and finished off the rest of the glass with a determined face. Krollin and Morven moved to hold her down and the dwarf went to work.

Hours later, after they had tended to all her wounds the three men rested in the bar with a mug of ale apiece. The girl’s pain filled screams had resonated throughout the pub and ran off most of the clientele for the evening, so they sat alone. Morven toyed with his mug as he mused over the girl resting in the next room.

“She damn near died for me back there.” Morven broke the silence and his men gave him their full attention. “Ya shoulda’ seen her fight. It was unlike anythin’ I’d seen. Hell, the little fool even went back and got our money from that treacherous troll!”

“She’s a tough lass, that one.” Krollin agreed and gave his Captain a meaningful look. “How did you both cross the tundra to get here from the mountains?”

“I ran.” Morven replied, somberly. “I carried her and I ran… I want to her have at least a taste of immortality ‘fore she dies.”

“Well put, Cap’n. Where shall we go when she can ride?”

“We go back to the ship and we set sail for the southern seas… And a bit o’ rest.”

* * *

  


Morgan le Fey didn’t know whether to be proud of the Goblin Prince or kill him for his stupidity during his brief stay at Narg’s prison. He constant egged on the trolls, causing them to forget their other victims and focus their attentions on him. He had even spat in Narg’s face as the great troll king tortured him. When he was returned to Magesblood for the Queen’s enjoyment Morgan was called at once to heal the broken prince. When she had crept into his dark cell, she found him sitting, leaned against one wall. His face was a mass of cuts and bruises, making him almost unrecognizable and his leg sat at an awkward angle. He looked to her as she knelt at his side.

“My leg is broken.” Jaron whispered. “Narg snapped it like a twig when I said his mother’s face brought to mind the visions of a basilisk’s face.”

Morgan fought back a chuckle and gave him a weak smile. “You should learn to watch your tongue and save your hide, Jaron.”

“Many of the fairy folk were there because they searched for me. I’ll heal.”

Grasping his leg above and below the fracture, she snapped it back into place before he had a chance to realize what she was doing. Jaron grunted in pain and she went to work splinting the leg.

“It would interest you to know there was a jail break in Narg’s prison after you left. All the prisoners escaped.” Morgan replied. “Seems an elf killed an entire platoon of trolls in the dungeon single-handedly and went on to slaughter three of Narg’s prized werewolves as well as the Twins who guarded the entrance to the mines from the North.”

Jaron looked to her, quickly. “An elf? Who?”

“No one knows.” Morgan said. “It is not often that you hear of an elf killing trolls, though. The gossip is that it was a pirate from the Genkis.”

“The gossip?”

“Yes, but that is only gossip.” Morgan gave him a secretive and coy smile. “I would however believe that it maybe a certain not-quite-mortal who fought her way though Bergtroll. Then again it could only be a mad Genki elf. One never knows in these kinds of matters.”

“One never does know.” Jaron agreed, weakly, as Morgan cleaned the blood from his face. He remained silent as she bandaged and treated his wounds. When she finished, she gave a great sigh.

“You won’t die, but you shall hurt like the devil for the next few days.” Morgan rose.

“I’ll probably have new wounds to worry about between now and then.” He said as she moved to leave him. He called out to her again. “Morgan?”

“Yes?” She asked.

“I had a dream while in Narg’s prison. I dreamt of Alyx and flowers. I believe it was real and I touched her flesh.”

Morgan scoffed. “There is no magic that powerful. It could not have been real.”

He nodded slowly. “That is what I thought, but when I awoke, I found this in my hair.”

He opened one of his bloody hands and in his palm sat a small and delicate jasmine petal. Morgan stared at it and then looked to him.

“It is _impossible_.”

“Yes. Impossible…” Jaron stared down at the petal in his hands. Morgan backed away and out of the cell, confusion crossing her features. The metal door clanged shut behind her and she left the Goblin Prince to his own company.

* * *

It had taken Alyx a lot of time to heal after their trip into Bergtroll despite the fact that her magic grew within her every day. Once she was able to travel, Morven whisked her to the coastline and the Merrow Wind set sail for southern waters. Alyx spent most of the trip recuperating in Morven’s quarters. She read from her book and practiced her magic. She could manage simple glamour and quickly gained mastery over her spells and incantations. By the time they had reached the southern waters, she was back to her former work aboard the ship, even if she still limped a little. Once she was able to move her arms properly, she cut off her long hair again, to keep up with her masculine disguise. Morven had watched her as she dropped the locks into the sea, her face sad for reasons other than her newly shorn hair.

She grew quiet, hardly speaking to even those who considered themselves her friends. By the time they had docked the ship in Citadel Inlet of the Austral Grasslands to sell their cargo, Morven had decided it was time to have a few words with her. He caught her alone on deck before he went ashore to market and was shocked to see that she had her pack and bedroll upon her back as if she was leaving the ship. It shocked him even more when he realized that she _was_ leaving the ship. Her newest disguise was a pair of earth-toned pants and top with layers to ward off the chill and a glamour of Genki tattoos covered the lower half of her face. She wore no hat over her newly shorn hair and silver hoop earrings adorned each of her ears that were glamoured to have elfish points. A long and patched duster swept the decks as she stepped. Her shoes had grown a bit more creative as of late. Morven frowned at the sight of her sword at her hip.

“Taking yer leave of us then?” Morven asked and she jumped at his voice.

She spun to face him with a frown. “What business is it of yours?”

“Just curious… Ya leavin’ us for good, kid?”

Alyx looked at him with surprise. “Oh, no… I just need to go somewhere… I’ll be back.”

“Oh? Where you off to then?”

“I have unattended business in the Enchanted Wood if you must know.” Alyx retorted as he followed her down the gangplank and to the docks. “Why are you following me?”

“Don’t ya want one o’ us to go with ya?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to do this alone. I’ll be fine.”

“How long are ya plannin’ on bein’ gone?” Morven asked.

She gave him a glare. “Are you my mother now?”

“Were you just gonna sneak off?” Morven huffed. “And without tellin’ a soul what ya were up to?”

“I told both Quigli and Krollin where I was going. I knew _you’d_ never let me off the ship if you found out.” Alyx replied as she shifted the pack on her back.

“Yer damn right.” Morven agreed. “I’m comin’ with ya.”

“No.” Alyx replied, firmly, put a hand on his arm. “This is something I need to do alone, Morven.”

He frowned. “Ya aren’t off to get yerself killed are ya?”

“No… I just need to go inland to talk to a friend. I’ll be back in a week or two.” She gave him a wry look. “I survived Bergtroll, didn’t I?”

“Well, we’ll be settin’ sail tonight, kiddo. We’re headin’ to Hawker’s Mooring.”

“Then I’ll meet you there in a week and a half.”

He frowned. “I can’t say I like the idea of ya ridin’ _alone_ on the Great Roads.”

“I won’t ride alone the whole way. I’m joining a caravan for part of my trip.” She felt a little bad for lying to him about the caravan, but soldiered on. “Don’t worry about me. You just make sure that no one screws you on that wild spice this time.” 

As he sputtered, she took her leave of the Captain and slipped into the crowds. She bought a decent horse and began to travel across the Austral Grasslands towards the Enchanted Wood. She had decided it was high time to go inland and find out what was going on. So, she was going to find a Bone Carver’s Guild and ask for Rowan or Roland. She needed to know if there was any news to be had and if what was happening within the courts. Alyx was amazed as she cross the Austral Grasslands. She had never seen them before and found the seemingly endless plains beautiful. One day she even saw a herd of unicorns grazing in the distance, the sunlight gleaming from their horns. She strayed far from the great roads to avoid confrontation with other until she reached her destination.

Soon the Grasslands melted into the beginnings of the Enchanted Forest. Using her compass to traverse the thickest parts of the forest, she found her way to the edge of Prism Lake and the waterfalls that fed the South Twin River into it. Though she wished to stay and explore the beautiful falls, she pressed onwards, knowing she was far to close to Rivertown for comfort.

It took her almost three days to get to Trader’s Post. Trader’s Post was nestled between the Labyrinth and Junction City in the Wood. The small town was a meeting and marketplace to many of the fairy folk who came from the forests all around. It was a sight to behold. All of the homes and buildings were built either into the bases or the tops of the massive trees. High above Alyx’s head rope bridges swung and Fairy Folk traveled to and fro there as much as the muddy streets. The tree tops glowed with the light of the thousands of fairies resting in the branches.

Alyx led her horse to a nearby spring to let the animal drink its fill. A group of elfish children played nine-pin nearby and Alyx watched them until her horse finished. Reaching into her pocket, she produced a shiny gold coin. The elfish children watched as she twirled it between her fingers. They all stopped their game to watch and she smiled.

Alyx called out to them. “A gold coin to the one can spare me some information.”

The group huddled together and finally one, a girl, stepped towards Alyx. Looking to be about thirteen or so the girl moved warily. The girl was beautiful, but covered with new and faded bruises. She wore a shabby green dress and her brown hair was in badly plaited pigtails. She smiled, shyly at Alyx and her heart went out to the young girl, because she recognized the signs of an abuse victim.

“What information, sir?” The girl asked, and dug her toe into the dirt.

“What’s your name?”

“Telyn, sir.”

“Telyn, I am Aneurin of the Genkis. I’ve been to sea for a long time now and news rarely crosses the seas.” Alyx knelt to be eye level with the girl. “Me ears haven’t hear tale of the Wood for a long time. What has happened of interest lately?”

Telyn gave a small giggle and pointed up the street. “Fergal up the road is selling fireworks! You get Six Satyr Snappers, Three Wailing Wizards, and three Red-Cap Revolvers for only three coppers and-“

“No, kiddo. I mean news of the cities, of the royals, of what is happenin’ in the Underground.”

The girl’s forehead furrowed in thought. “There was a christening in the Goblin City over Yuletide. The Lady Sarah. She’s the King Tamer.”

Alyx smiled under her covering, happy for her friend. “Good girl. Anything else?”

“Prince Ramsden of Bethmoora has forsaken his father and ran away to join the Dark Court. All of the Seelie royals are furious. My friend, Bennen’s, mother says, ‘That’s just what them royals should get after believing such a disgusting excuse for a Fae over Prince Jaron.’” Telyn beamed at her near perfect recitation of the mother’s words.

“His mother is a wise woman. Here.” Alyx offered out the coin to the hesitant girl. “Take it. You earned it. Go buy yourself some fireworks.”

The girl giggled and in a flash, she took the coin. Then she disappeared, presumably towards Fergal’s shop for the aforementioned fireworks. The other elfish children followed her, giggling and exclaiming over the coin. Alyx rose and began to walk away with her horse and did not see the older elf who stopped Telyn with a thump to the head and took the coin from her, roughly. He strode towards Alyx and grabbed her arm, spinning her around.

“Who are you, stranger, to be offerin’ my sister gold coins?” The tall elf glared down at Alyx, his brown hair pulled back from his face in braids. He held the coin up in one hand. “What do you want with her?”

Alyx jerked her arm free with a growl and one hand went to the hilt of her blade. Likewise the elf’s hand went to the twin blades at his waist. She frowned under her muffler and straightened her back. “I asked for news of these days… I’ve been out to sea for the last few seasons.”

The elf pocketed the coin and crossed his arms over his chest. “Find your news at the pub then, _pirate_. Leave my sister be and get your fill of information there.”

Alyx’s eyes flashed when she realized he meant to keep the girl’s coin and she gave a snort of disgust. “Are ya this rude to every traveler who wanders through or did am I just the lucky one today?”

“Perhaps you should get on your horse and ride on out.” The elf suggested. “Your kind is not welcome in Trader’s Post.”

“My kind?” Alyx cocked her head to one side. “And what kind be that?”

“Pirate trash.”

Alyx narrowed her eyes at him. “Rest yer tongue or I’ll rest it for ya.”

The elf went to say something else and in an instant the tip of Alyx’s blade was at his chin. He stared down the sword and into Alyx’s steely eyes before he swallowed, hard.

“I be regrettin’ that such a darlin’ little girl has the misfortune of havin’ a brother as rude as yerself, and for her sweet sake alone I’d kill ya, but I don’t have a taste for bloodsport, so I’ll be sparin’ yer life today. Now, I suggest ya be a bit more courteous an’ answer me a simple question, matey… Ya got me?  
He swallowed, hard. “Aye.”

“Good. Where will I be findin’ the Bone Carver’s Guild?”

“There’s no Guild here. The closest is in Junction City.”

“Good. Now point me towards the nearest pub an’ inn, an’ wish me good travels.”

The elf nodded and pointed up the street. “That ways is The Drunken Boar. Good travels, sir.”  
“I be thankin’ ya.” Alyx sheathed her blade and began to head for the inn.

“Who are you?” The elf asked as he fell into step beside her.

“Yer awful curious for the lad who nearly lost his head a moment ago.” Alyx replied, icily. “Why are ya followin’ me?”

“I’m curious. What is your name?”

“Today and to you, I am Obelix of the Seas. Now leave me be.” Alyx ordered and he fell back. Mounting her horse, she rode the rest of the ways towards the inn. The dwarfish barkeeper came to meet her at the door.

“I got no rooms left!” He said, gruffly, and frowned.

“Can ya spare a pair of stables?” Alyx produced her bag of coins and jingled it. “I got no troubles sleepin’ next to my horse for the night.”

“If you wish. Who are you, stranger?”

“I am Obelix of the Genkis.” Alyx replied. “A sailor on leave.”

“The Genkis, heh? An’ a sailor to boot? A might far inland ain’t ya?” The dwarf led her to the stalls and to a pair of empty stalls. “Both are mucked and freshly hayed.”

Alyx gave him a handful of coins and began to feed her horse. The dwarf counted his money and watched her, warily.

“I saw you arguing with our mayor’s son, elf. There is no trouble following you is there?”

“I bought information from his sister and he thought I meant ill to the girl.” Alyx took off her horse’s bridle and turned back to the innkeeper with a shrug. “We settled our disagreement.”

“By the tip of your blade as I saw it. I suspect you won’t tarry in the morning and shall leave early?”

“Your town seems mighty unfriendly to strangers. What have I done to make the lot of ya want me gone so quickly?” Alyx asked, staring him down.

The dwarf frowned. “Strangers are unwelcome these dark days. You’ll do well to remember that in the Wood.”

“I see.” Alyx turned and began to rub down her horse, ignoring the dwarf. He left in a huff at her demeanor and left her to finish with her horse. Then she traveled to the still festive marketplace. Many stared at her unfamiliar figure as she made her way though the booths, restocking her supplies and procuring her dinner. Ignoring their pointed stares and loud whispers, she retired to the stable for her supper. Resting back in the hay, she stared up at the dark ceiling, thinking and wishing she would dream of her Goblin Prince again. Shortly thereafter, she extinguished her lantern and prepared for sleep.

Just as she had begun to drift away, she heard a strange noise in the stable. She listened, closely, in the darkness and heard the sounds of people, stealthy approaching. She cursed, inwardly, and frowned as she grabbed her pack. Studying her stall for an exit, she found the boards at the back loose. Giving one a quick kick with her boot, she slipped though and free from the stables before her attackers could get to her stall. Hiding next to the inn in the shadows, she watched as the innkeeper and the mayor’s son exited with a small group. All wore very confused looks on their faces. It was then she realized they meant to rob her in her sleep.

Mourning the loss of a good horse, she took off for the outskirts of the town to find a safer bed for the night. After an hour’s search, she found a hollowed tree trunk a short distance from the road. She curled up in its base and wrapped her bedroll around herself as she fumed over her treatment in Trader’s Post. That was when a frightful and familiar sound rose into the moonlit air. It was Mab’s Sluagh as they rode the night, all cackles and screams. Alyx frowned as she muttered a small protection charm and hugged her knees. _Perhaps it was a bad idea for me to go off on my own like this_, she thought as she shivered. It took a long time, but the noises of the Sluagh faded and Alyx felt able to relax a little. She curled up into a ball against one wall of the tree trunk and huddled under her bedroll. Lonely, cold, and miserable, Alyx fell asleep until dawn.

* * *

A low groan eased past his parched and sun-blistered lips. He could hear the surf thundering below him on the cliffs. The roar even deadened the sound of his heavy shackles in the heavy winds. A great shadow blocked the sunlight for a moment and his mind became alert. His salt crusted eyes opened slowly in the bright sunlight as the large shadow passed, closer this time. There was a sudden, searing pain in his thigh and he cried out in rage. Another shadow swooped in and tore a bit of flesh from his outstretched arms. Jaron felt no need to bite back the cries of pain that spewed from deep within.

Mab had decided to bring him to Havelock on the Sea, the home of the Great White Rocs for torture. At the moment it was those birds that were tearing chunks of flesh from his body. She had ordered him chained to the cliff sides for the entire day. Most of the day he had to only endure the harsh sun and lack of food or water, but by mid-day the rocs had found him. At first they had been frightened off by his angered screams, but soon enough, they grew brave and began to take their pecks out of him. Jaron knew that he would not die there on the cliffs. Mab would make sure he was brought in and healed so they could start all over again with a new torture. Jaron let out a sound that was part laugh and part sob as he hung his head. A shadow again fell upon him and he realized that someone was standing before him.

“Well, my pet… Shall you give your will to me?” Mab’s cruel voice asked.

Jaron squinted one eye at her in the harsh sunlight and replied. “Mind not blocking my sun? I’m trying to get a tan here.”

Mab gripped his chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. “Your smart mouth gets you nowhere. Give your will to me.”

“No.”

With a disgusted huff, she released his chins. “Then you shall spend tonight and tomorrow here as well. I hope you enjoy your stay on the cliffs, pet.”

With that, she left him and Jaron could hear the rustle of wings as the Rocs neared him again. How Jaron missed his wings…

How he screamed as the Rocs began to tear at him again.

* * *

Being Fae was strange.

Sarah had concluded that easily within the first few days after her christening as she tried to gain mastery over the new magic settling inside her. It was wonderful and more than anything she could have ever dreamt of when she was a little girl, but she was glad Jareth kept her sheltered within the castle after she had been christened. It was there under his watchful care that she began to explore this new her. There could never have been anyone besides Jareth that she wanted beside her the most at such a time. It felt as if she had been reborn. Every sight, smell, taste, and touch was like an explosion to her senses.

It took her nearly a week to master her new magic skills and another two before she was able to transport herself anywhere. Jareth was surprisingly patient with her and her wavering magic, often encouraging her to try her spells again, even if the last attempt had blown out all of the windows in the west wing of the castle. Even now as she sat at her window and stared out over the Labyrinth, she thought of her Goblin King and smiled. As if on cue, he appeared in her room, a smug look on his face.

She gave him a smile. “What are you so proud of yourself for?”

“I have news for you.” He gave her a jagged grin and came to stay over her at the window. “I have just spoken with the mayor of Trader’s Post.”

“What did that little snipe want?” Sarah asked, remembering the lewd elf from a recent dinner in Merial.

“He had an elf come through town two nights ago that asked about the Bone Carver’s Guild. Called his self Obelix.”

“So?”

“The elf covered his face. There were never quite able to ascertain if he was not a _she_.”

Sarah’s bright green eyes widened. “Alyx?”

“Perhaps. They say he may have headed for Junction City. Apparently the lout’s son tried to rob the elf. The lad saw him give his sister a gold coin and decided to rob him in his sleep. The elf took off into the night and left his horse.” Jareth sat across from her. “It is a thin lead, but a lead none the less. I am going to Junction City tonight. The word is that Roland is hiding there with the Bone Carver’s, so I shall go to him.”

“That is wonderful news! Am I going?”

He frowned. “Most certainly not! Junction City is no place for you. It will be crawling with Unseelie slime this time of year. It’s the peak of their slaving season and quite unsafe.”

She frowned back at him. “Am I just supposed to be some pretty little ornament that sits in your castle waiting on you? I am not a vase or trophy, Jareth. I want to help.”

“I understand love, but you are newly Fae. The Darkling Court love to get their hands on the newly Fae. They are easier prey.”

“I’m not afraid.”

He smiled. “I know and that is what I love about you, but it is dangerous.”

Sarah reached for his outstretched hand. He then pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. She curled her fingers around the lapel of his coat and rested her head against his chest. “I wish that you would let me help.”

“I will, love… When it comes to a less dangerous situations.” Jareth gave her a peck on the top of her head.

* * *

Without her horse it took Alyx longer to reach Junction City than she had originally planned. It was late and well past a week since she had begun this journey when she could see the city’s lights before her. Junction City sat on a narrow piece of land between the North and South Twin Rivers that ran down from Enid Lake and Elroen. It was all a giant, pieced together market place that had the Twin Rivers on either side carting in and out goods at all hours. Ferries also traveled at all hours, transporting cargo and people. This was to Alyx’s advantage because most of the time the people were strangers. Coming to the bank she found only one ferry still taking passengers to and fro in the dead of the cool night. The gnome ferryman gave her very odd looks as he steered them across the South Twin River. Strangers were very unwelcome in the Enchanted Wood in these dark times and nom one let her forget it.

The gnome chewed the end of his pipe. “Are ye Elfish, stranger? Fae? You’re too damn skinny to be a dwarf.”

Her cloudy blue eyes glanced in his direction before looking back at the approaching Junction City. She responded in a raspy voice. “Elfish… I’m a Genki.”

The gnome nearly choked on his pipe and nodded, warily. He had obviously heard tales of the ferocity of the island elves. He sputtered. “Long way inland for ya then, eh?” 

Alyx was quiet for a moment as she stared at the city. “Do you know where I can find the nearest Bone Carvers Guild?”

The gnome cocked his head to the side as he looked to her. “Got bones to sell?”

“Troll bones.” She lied. “I want knives made.”

“Good on ya! ’Tis a tough job for someone as small as us to kill a Troll.” The gnome nodded, and Alyx could tell he was trying to keep her on his good side.

“Aye, the Bone Carvers can do ye.”

The ferry reached Junction City’s docks with a slight bump and the gnome tossed a line around the nearest post. He then pointed the way with his pipe. ”Go right off the docks. Go straight on down that street there, until you reach the weapons market. Can’t miss it. ‘Tis the only thing open this time o’ night. They have the first building in the middle of the circle. Ride along the God’s Winds, elf. Junction City be full of Unseelie this time of year. ‘Tis the trading of slaves that they love… _Avoid_ that market.”

Alyx nodded at the gnome as she got off the boat. She reached into her pockets and flipped him a gold coin. He caught it, greedily and bit into it. In the dim light he eyed the symbol on the front. “How in blazes did you get royal Fae gold?”

By the time he had looked up, she had disappeared into the shadows. She moved along the streets, silently, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. The city was mostly deserted until she reached the weapon’s market. Her eyes roved over the various inhabitants of the underground as they bought and sold to one another. Trolls were haggling over clubs on her right, and ahead at the left stood a pair of goblins testing out a crossbow, quite unsuccessfully if anyone were to ask Alyx. Her eyes drifted over a table were an old Fae man selling knives. After quickly eyeing the table’s contents of weaponry, she moved on, realizing that the whole lot was little more than worthless. As her cold eyes scanned the crowd, she wondered which booths hosted their own underground slave traders. Ignoring the rest of the stalls, she moved ahead, briskly, casting not even one glance to the vender’s and their calls. Ahead was the Bone Carvers building with a small booth set up outside. The table was covered with knifes, bows, and other weapons carved of many strange bones.

A scarred Fae man gave her a false smile as she approached. “How can I help you, stranger? Seeking a new handle for a blade? I have some nice dragon knuckle bones in and-”

It was now or never, Alyx thought, and cut in with a wave of one hand. “I seek Rowan.”

The Fae’s eyes widened and he spoke, softly. “Such a request is not one to make lightly, _stranger_.”

“And not one I would, _lightly_, make. I seek _Rowan_.” Alyx repeated a little more forcefully.

The Fae man nodded and turned to the door behind him. He called out in Gaelic and was answered from within. Turning back to Alyx he gave her a nod. “Come inside, if you seek Rowan.”

She followed the scarred Fae inside the building, one hand on the hilt of her sword. She suspected a trap. Upon entering, she drew her short blade and held it to Roland’s waiting neck. He had been hiding at the entranceway with his own blade in hand, ready to ambush her.

“Is that any way to treat an old friend?” Alyx inquired, narrowing her eyes as the Fae shop-keep drew his own blade. She poked Roland’s neck with the tip of his sword until he grunted. “The pair of you had best drop your blades.”

Roland obeyed and motioned for the other Fae to follow suit. Roland’s eyes came back to Alyx and she inwardly reveled at the sight of a familiar though unkempt face. He had grown out quite a shaggy beard and looked very disheveled. He frowned. “I donna know you, stranger. Why do ya seek me kin?”

Alyx looked to the shop keep and Roland realized she wanted the man gone. The Fae looked to Roland and the prince waved him away. The shop keeper obeyed and Alyx sheathed her blade.

Her voice was raspy with emotion when she choked out. “You.”

Roland eyed her, obviously not recognizing her in her disguise. “What could you want with me?”

“Do you really not know me? Have the years changed me so much? Oh, my glamour, duh!” Down came the layers and the glamour of tattoos melted away. A few stray tears crept down into her waiting smile. Upon revealing her lovely face, Roland whooped for joy.

“Alyx! You’re alive!” Roland swept her into his arms and held her against him, tightly, afraid to let her go. He planted a happy and rather wet kiss upon her rosy cheek. Alyx wrapped her arms around him and breathed deeply as he held her. For the first time in three years, she felt again what the happiness of her past felt like. Leaning back to look at her face, he swept a hand over her short-cropped curls. “Where have you been all this time?”

Alyx brushed at the tears in her eyes. ”In hiding, Roland, and being safe.”

“I canna be happier to see you! I worried for ya, lass. I was addled when we dinna find you in Nevan three years ago.” Roland confessed as he cupped her cheeks.

Alyx shook her head and gave him a smile. “I never got off in Nevan. I felt safer if no one knew where I was until my christening time ended.”

“It’s still going, ain’t it?” Roland looked into her eyes and at her form. “You’re still changin’. Yer eyes are different.”

She nodded. “Yes, but I had to come back and hear news… News of anything! I’ve been cut off from circulation as of late.”

“Well, thank the Gods that you are okay.” He moved to lead her further inside the building. “Come and we can have dinner and drinks and talks.”

“Nay, I must not stay. I am only passing through. I hope for quick news.”

Alyx then grew quiet for a moment and asked her most important question. “Have you news of Jaron?”

Roland shook his head, remorsefully. “Mab is hidin’ him. Oberon overruled the banishment, what with Ramsden showin’ everyone the slime he is by defectin’ to the Unseelie. Mab refuses to release Jaron.”

Alyx nodded, grimly. “Am I still sought out?”

“Any news of you is rewarded by Oberon.” Roland replied. “He says he only is wantin’ to talk to you.”

Alyx scoffed. “Talk to me? Yeah, more like lock me up and throw away the key… They’d be apt banish me as they did Jaron. Nay, I want nothing to do with them. I trust very few royals and few others here. How is Sarah?”

“She and Jareth are revolutionizing courting within the Underground. They are what you mortals call ‘dating’. She decided to stay here and was christened some time back.” Roland chuckled.

Alyx gave a small chuckle. “Good girl. Is Trog with you? I miss her.”

“I’m ‘fraid she’s left on a suicide mission to Magesblood. Left me in the dead of night in Rivertown a spell back… Canna remember most dates these days… Stay for dinner, Alyx.” Roland pleaded. “Let’s catch up while we have time.”

“I can’t. I have stayed to long already. I _must_ reach Elroen by tomorrow evening at least. I _am_ sorry, Roland. I will return someday. I swear it. Goodbye.”

Alyx pulled back up her coat collar and layers of clothing, feeling bad for lying to him about her destination. She gave him a pleading look as she moved to go out the door. She froze when she felt the strong magic emanating from outside. Jareth strode inside to block her exit. He wore a long black cloak with a high collar and his sword at his hip.

“Alyxandrea.” He breathed, his eyes relieved to see her.

In a flash, Alyx drew her blade and pointed it at him. “Out of my way, Goblin King.”

“I did not come to take you into custody, Alyx. I only want to talk to you.” Jareth held out his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“I have no time for frivolous words, Goblin King.” Alyx gestured with her sword. “Clear a path or I shall clear it for you.”

Jareth’s features softened. “Sarah misses you, Alyx. You missed her christening.”

Alyx did not falter and gestured with the sword again. “Move, Jareth.”

Jareth leapt for her and wrapped his arms around her, trying to hold the girl to him. She slammed her heel down on the top of his foot and an elbow to his ribs. Struggling free at his pained gasp, she lunged for the door. Pausing at the doorframe, she turned to the Fae men. She gave a smirk and a small bow. With that, she disappeared into the busy market place. Jareth followed her to the door and cursed when he lost her in the crowd.

“Bloody hell!” Jareth cursed at the pain and rubbed his sore ribs. She was much stronger and smarter. Any harder and she might have cracked one of his ribs.

Roland gave him a dirty glare. “She’ll not come to me again, Jareth. She’ll think I set you upon her. I told you to leave me be!”

“It was worth the chance. I needed to see her. I had worried if the christening had taken well. Jorall was not well versed in christening mortals when he did hers.” Jareth sighed. “She looked good. Well-developed and older. Should not take too much longer and she shall be completely Fae.”

“She asked of Jaron. Donna think she still seeks him, do ya?”

“I don’t know. I must report to Oberon with my news. I am sorry, Roland.”

* * *

Alyx crept along the abandoned streets of Junction City, enraged at Jareth. He tried to ambush her. And that blasted Highlander! Had even Roland turned on her? She reminded herself of the first two lessons she learned of the Underground when she had arrived. One: Things aren’t always as they seem. Two: Never trust anyone. She was still grumbling at herself when she rounded a corner and pulled her self to a short stop. Morgan le Fey stood before her in the empty street, smiling. Alyx drew her blade.

“Hello, Girl Who Wished Herself Away. We were never properly introduced three years ago in Merial, but I come bearing news and warnings for you.” Morgan pursed her black lips as if she had something sour in her mouth. “Our Queen of Air and Darkness has something that belongs to you.”

Alyx’s heart leapt to her throat. “Jaron?”

“Aye, your Goblin Prince. Hers he’ll never completely be. He is too stubborn to give his will to her as the ancient curse dictates. So every day she uses her whips to persuade him a little more.” Morgan moved closer to her, her red fox-fur gown swishing in the night.

Alyx held her ground and asked, bluntly. “How can I save him?”

“No one can. He has been cursed by Mab. Cursed to stay her slave, forever.”

“I see. Forever is it?” Alyx’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not long at all.”

“Indeed. Do not seek him out. Mab will kill you both. Forget the Goblin Prince!” Morgan stopped her tirade and smiled. “Or wait until the magic settles in you and you gain your skill… As I know you will… Remember, child… Do not underestimate Mab Nightshayde.”

Morgan disappeared in a flurry of feathers and cackling echoes. Alyx stared up at the sky and moved on. She trusted no one in this world. She rode the same ferry back across the South Twin River, again paying the gnome well for his silence. Wrapping her cloak around herself to ward of the chill of the evening, she felt eyes upon the back of her neck. She whirled around, searching for the person spying upon her and felt the prickle of magic upon her skin. Someone was using magic to spy upon her. Remembering Jareth’s crystals, she quickly concentrated into blocking herself from the viewer. Whoever it had been was new to magic, for it was easy for Alyx to accomplish. Hurrying from the ferry when it docked she headed for the Wood. Then she began the long walk to Trader’s Post. She had a horse to retrieve.

* * *

Jaron bit back a scream of pain as Mab pulled back her arm to strike the whip down upon his back a little more forcefully. She was distracted when an armor covered orc came to her side.

He hissed and bowed as she acknowledged him. “Forgive me, Your Grace. Sources informed me that The Girl Who Wished Herself Away was spotted in Junction City at the weapons market!” 

Jaron flinched at the mention of Alyx’s nickname and could tell the news thrilled his captor greatly.

Mab asked, gleefully. “Did you capture her?”

The orc sounded frightened. “No, your grace. King Jareth arrived and she took flight. We lost her within the city.”  
Jaron could feel the displeasure as it came off of Mab in waves. She spoke low. “You displease me, Xarthel. Fetch me Harkin.”

The small orc nodded and fled, happy that he was not under Mab’s field of punishment. Jaron grunted in pain as Mab resumed applying the whip upon him, her energy renewed with rage at her incompetent guards. At every crack of the whip, a harsh breath came from Jaron’s burning lungs, and his body tightened in pain. She stopped, abruptly, and walked around to face him. Grabbing his face, she forced him to look at her.

“Give your will to me, slave.” She ordered.

Jaron’s mismatched eyes met hers and he whispered through the blood filling his mouth. “She’ll come for me.”

Mab snarled and rose, readying her whip. She raised the whip and brought it down upon his face, cutting open his cheek to the bone. Slowly, he raised his head back up to look at her and smirked through his split lips. He spat out a mouthful of blood upon the floor and Mab strode away in disgust, ordering her orcs to take him to his cell. Then Morgan was sent to heal him. It was the same as every day he stayed in Mab’s hold. Except for the one thing that he had heard that made him smile even if it hurt to do so.

She was alive. 

* * *

Waiting, anxiously, in the hedge maze for Jareth to return with news of Alyx, Sarah carefully rolled a crystal between her palms. She had always thought that it was sheer magic that caused the crystals to glide so effortlessly over Jareth’s palms, but she learned that he had actually practiced and studied for years to be able to manipulate the crystals. There was no magic involved. She had asked him at dinner one night and he performed a demonstration for her with four crystals, spinning them in a tower in one hand, and rolling them about his palms. He had also informed her, smugly, that all the men of the Sindhe family learned the art of manipulating crystals at a young age and were the known for their talents far and wide in the Underground. Jora snickered at her brother’s conceited smile and conjured six crystals, only to manipulate them far grander than Jareth had. She smirked and explained that the women are taught as well, and most times exceed the men folk in talent. Sarah had giggled at Jareth’s frown as he, grudgingly, admitted that Jora was the best of three children. He added that Jaron had no talent or passion for crystal manipulation, so he never finished his lessons. Jareth had offered to teach Sarah and she was excited to learn. That was if they could be around one another for more than ten seconds without ending in a shouting match.

Looking up from the crystal in her palms, she gazed up at the crescent moon high in the sky. Things between her and Jareth had grown tense since the arrival of his cousin, Rowan, not long after his brother’s banishment. It was apparent that the cousins held little love in regard of one another and their arguments were quite epic. Although, Sarah enjoyed spending time with the Highland Princess and learning many things about life and magic in the Underground. That only seemed to make him angrier. First he had been furious when she taught Sarah to fence, and about the time she got him cooled off over that, he found Sarah in his brother’s private library trying to learn rather advanced protection magic. It seemed that everyday they were finding new things to fight about. He had begun to treat her like a child since she had become Fae and began her magic studies. It was something that she was going to have to have a rather serious discussion with him about again. Stilling the crystal, she looked down at it again, and focused all of her energy into her newfound Fae magic.

She commanded. “Show me Alyx.”

The crystal darkened and blurred image appeared. It was of a swaddled figure, crossing a wide river on a ferry. Sarah squinted, trying to make out the blurry picture and concentrated harder on her magic. Suddenly, the figure turned, and the face became clear as day.

It was Alyx!

The younger woman’s face grew worried in the crystal, as if she could feel Sarah’s eyes upon her. Sarah gasped at seeing her friend alive and then the crystal went dark. Crying out in frustration, Sarah shook the crystal, attempting to bring the image of her friend back.

“Unlike that confounded Magical 9-Ball that you insisted on bringing back from Aboveground, the image will not change when you shake the crystal, love.”

Sarah gasped, falling into one leafy wall, and turned to see him standing, next to her. She frowned. “Jareth… Remember the ‘don’t be creepy’ talk we had? Appearing out of nowhere, spying on me, and scaring the living daylights out of me definitely falls under the definition of ‘creepy’.”

“You know, I actually took the time out of my busy schedule today and scrounged up a dictionary in the library. Then I proceeded to look up this ‘creepy’ phrase you are so fond of and I’ll have you know that I neither ‘induce the sensation of uneasiness, as if things are crawling on one’s skin’, nor am I ‘annoyingly unpleasant’.” Jareth replied, rather smugly. “I believe that I would rather fall under the definition of ‘_surprise’_ or ‘_sexy’_ more than this ‘creepy’ and-“

“For one thing, Jareth, it’s called a Magic 8-Ball and it’s sentimental to me. And for another, I meant creepy as in- Oh, never mind.” She threw up her hands in desperation.

He gave her a smile. “You conjured the image of Alyx?”

“Barely.” Sarah admitted. “And only for a minute before I lost her.”

He came to sit next to her and studied the darkened crystal. “Actually I do not think you ‘lost’ her. I believe she felt you peeking and blocked the crystal’s view. Her magic is very advanced, indeed.”

“She knew I was looking?” Sarah as Jareth tossed the dark crystal over his shoulder, carelessly.

“Yes, her magic is growing. That is good.” Jareth took Sarah’s hand into his as they traversed the hedge maze together, both enjoying the fact that they were not arguing and spending some rare alone time together. “I saw her in the flesh just this evening, Sarah. In Junction City at the Twin Rivers.”

Sarah brightened. “Really? Did you talk to her? Is she coming back?”

“I’m afraid not. I fear I may have mucked things up again. I traveled tonight to find Roland. Upon my arrival, I discovered that she had come to speak with him in secret for, what I gather, was the first time since her disappearance. My presence ruined things and she fled. I also believe that she has come to the assumption that Roland set for me and is a traitor to her cause. I do not think she will seek him out again.”

Sarah’s grip tightened on his hand. “It’s not your fault. It was just bad timing, Jareth.”

“I have made a rather horrid mess of everything… The _one_ time that I had a chance to set things right and I failed!” Jareth replied, exasperated with himself. “I knew that I sensed another powerful presence at the Guild, but I stormed through the door, regardless!”

“You didn’t know it was her.” Sarah replied and cupped his pale cheek in her hand. “The important thing is that we know that she is okay. You did good tonight, Jareth. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“I certainly hope so…” He gave a ragged breath and a small smile as his arms wrapped around her. “You are an angel… Did you know that?”

“I do my best.” She knew know was a good as time as any to broach the subject of her going with him the next time he looked for her friend, so Sarah took a deep breath and plunged. “So, how about I go with you next time? Maybe I can-“

“I should think not!” Jareth seemed appalled. “The places that I search for your friend are _no place_ for a new Fae! Especially a lady, at that!”

Sarah gave him a rather pointed look. “Then why are you looking for _her_ there?”

Jareth opened his mouth to retort and snapped it shut. “They are not the places for someone of your standing, my dear.”

“My standing?” Sarah jerked back in his arms to give him a glare. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“As Goblin Queen, you are not expected-“

“The hell with that! I don’t care what’s _expected_ of me, Jareth! I’m not here because I want to be Queen of the Goblins! I’m here because I love you!” Sarah jerked free from his grasp and turned to find they were in the courtyard where she had first met the Wiseman, who she now knew to be King Theoden and his phoenix is guise.

“Sarah, you knew that there would be… Oh, formalities that we must adhere to and-“ Jareth began as she sat down, gingerly, upon the stone throne in the middle of the courtyard, and propped her chin up with one hand.

“Formalities? I thought _we_ agreed that this was not a typical Fae courtship?” Sarah asked, heatedly, tapping her fingers against her cheek.

He gave her an exasperated sigh. “Sarah, there are certain rules that even a king must follow. We suffer enough gossip, since you are living here and we are not wed! I’d rather us just marry and be done with it!”

Sarah’s eyes snapped to him and she frowned. “Did- Did you just propose to me?”

He froze, unsure of how he should answer her query. Cocking his head to one side, he replied, rather hesitantly. “Yes…?”

Her face fell and, immediately, he knew he had answered incorrectly, and he tried to stutter out a retraction.

“No! I mean no! I do not want to marry you! No! I mean-… Oh, bloody, bloody hell.” Jareth rubbed his brow in frustration.

Sarah slumped in the stone throne and scratched at an invisible stain on her knee. “If you didn’t intend on marrying me then you should have just said so…”

“I didn’t mean that.” Jareth took a deep breath and decided to start over from scratch. “I only mean to protect you from both words and actions from others. We both know how you can get yourself into trouble an-”

She glared up at him with fierce eyes. “You don’t think I can take care of myself?”

Jareth snorted. “Of course not! I am only saying that you _need_ my protection here.”

She frowned and he knew, again, that he had answered incorrectly.

“Sarah, that’s not what I meant! You’re doing that mortal thing of twisting my words again!” He tried to come to her.

She rose and held out one hand. He felt the wild magic draw around her and her green eyes blazed as she stepped down from the throne. “I know what you meant. You don’t trust in me… You never trust anyone.”

“That is rubbish!” Jareth snorted and put his hands on hips. “You are overreacting!”

“Overreacting? I’m overreacting, because you are treating me like a little kid? I’m not a fifteen-year-old mortal anymore, Jareth! I think I have the means to take care of myself! You forget that I’m the one who bested your Labyrinth in the first place!”

“You won _only_ be because I _fancied_ you!” Jareth retorted, his temper rising.

Sarah froze and gave him the most heart-wrenching look he had ever seen. It lasted for a split second, before anger crossed her beautiful features.

“You are an asshole, Jareth.” She said, lowly.

“And you are a foul-tempered harpy!” Jareth snapped back, still pissed.

“Oh, a harpy, am I?” Sarah’s eyes flashed and she drew one hand up as she gathered her magic. “Then remember, Goblin King… You have no power over me!”

When she threw her hand down, the wild magic hit Jareth like a tidal wave and threw him back into the stone throne. The magic pulsed out like fire, and he threw one arm up to shield his eyes. When the magic ebbed, he dropped one arm, and found only a scorched patch of stone marring the spot where she had stood. All around him, the entire hedge maze was ablaze. A pair of goblins rushed to his feet, panting.

“What-do-we-do-KING?” They panicked.

He frowned and barked. “Gather help and put out that damned fire!”

“But-the-lady-“

“Go!” Jareth bellowed and the pair was wise enough to listen, quickly.


	6. Closer Than You Think

After her fight with Jareth, Sarah transported herself to the first place that popped into her head, and for some reason that had been Sirrocco Forest of Dragon’s Eye Island. Though she had never been to the island, Morgan’s advice of seeking out her sister had intrigued Sarah. Perhaps the Alchemist could aid her in learning to control her magic and teach her to be the Goblin Queen. Though her anger was still in full force, Sarah found herself more than amazed when they arrived and she saw the beautiful forest around her. Upon all the trees grew leaves of the most shining silver that she had ever seen. Quickly putting out the embers that appeared on her sleeve after her transportation, she stared around in wonder. Ashe clucked, warily, from her side as she reached out to brush her fingers across the leaves of the nearest tree. The precious metal leaves tinkled at her touch and she could see her reflection in the lustrous metal.

“It’s beautiful…” Sarah murmured and Ashe gave a squawk, angry about their sudden transportation.

“It couldn’t be helped.” Sarah frowned at the gryphon. “He was being a jerk… I think we’re in Sirrocco Forest.”

Ashe sniffed the wind and nodded his head towards a small path through the shining trees. She nodded and hiked up her skirts. “Well, we’re here… We may as well see where it goes, right?”

In the hours spent crossing through the thick wood, Sarah tried to push the thoughts of her and Jareth’s fight from her troubled mind. She had probably overreacted, but he couldn’t understand how she felt. He had been here all his life, but his world, wondrous as it was, was a bit overwhelming for her. He seemed so concerned about ‘playing by the rules’ and she often wondered where the Goblin King she had first met had gone. He was still an arrogant jerk, but… Sarah gritted her teeth and stopped herself mid-thought. It was no use arguing to her self over what happened. All she could do now was to find a way to fix things and somehow she knew that started with Wyntr le Fey.

A bright light glinted in her eyes, nearly blinding her and distracting her from her thoughts. She held up one hand to shield her eyes and was amazed to find the silver forest leading into one of pure gold the further that they walked. She marveled at the bright leaves, glinting in the sunlight all around them. The gryphon’s eyes brightened when he saw all the beloved gold before him and he began to pounce about in glee. Mewing and rubbing against the trunk of a thick golden oak, the mighty creature batted at the glittering acorns scattered upon the fresh grass. He reached up to sink his front talons into the bark of the oak, his cat side coming out. Sarah swatted at him, half-heartedly.

“Quit that! This isn’t _our_ forest for you to tear up! If I catch you nicking any of these branches or acorns, I’ll throw you in the nearest river!” Sarah chastised and Ashe gave her a sullen snort. “Hey! For all we know, we’re not even close to Wyntr’s and I’ve read fairytales! Some mean old witch could come along and turn us into newts or something worse if you damage her trees. Stop fooling around.”

The gryphon squawked and curled up at the base of the oak, happy to take a breather in the gold encrusted forest.

“Oh, no you don’t! We’ve probably got a long ways to walk yet and it’ll be dark soon. Even if time does run weird here…”

Ashe gave a disbelieving cluck and preened his wing feathers, disdainfully.

Sarah frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, we _could_ already be at Wyntr’s if _someone_ wasn’t such a _sissy_ and learned how to fly…”

Ashe turned to her with a glare and, grudgingly, rose to his feet. He gave a leisurely stretch and returned to her side.  
She gave him a warm smile and scratched his feathered head. “Eh, I love you… Even if you are a big sissy.” Ashe mewled happily and Sarah buried one hand in the feathery fur at his shoulder as they moved on. “This place is _way_ too familiar, buddy. It’s like I’ve never been here, but I’ve known it all my life…”

Before they even neared them, she knew there were trees of diamond before her, so she wasn’t surprised when they saw the sparkling trees in the distance. Still, she couldn’t resist the urge, so she brushed her hands against the diamond leaves that rivaled anything Tiffany’s had to offer. “Just like in the _12 Dancing Princesses_… Do ya think we’ll find a lake and castle, Ashe?”

The gryphon sniffed at the base of a sparkling willow and gave a snort of disgust. He already missed the glittering forest of gold behind them.

Sarah gave chuckle and scratched his shoulder. “Apparently, these aren’t even worth _marking_ as yours, huh boy?” 

Ashe shook his head and dug at the dirt with his talons, more than ready to move on from the forest. Sarah smiled, fondly, and the pair moved on. Luckily their trip through the diamond woods was short. Before long the trail led them to a crossroads. One path led to the right, further through the diamond forest and followed along the shores of a wide and babbling brook. The path straight ahead crossed a small stone bridge over the brook and into a valley. Bright colored smoke of greens, reds, purples, and yellows rose from somewhere in the middle of the valley.

“Well, what do you think, boy?” Sarah asked, studying both paths with a furrowed brow as they approached. “Boy, I wish I had studied those maps in Jareth’s office a little better.”

It was then that Sarah noticed that at the fork in the road stood a scarecrow. The weather-beaten creature hosted a hollowed turnip for his head with a sharp smile carved to forever convey his happiness. He also wore a top hat that was cocked, jovially, to one side. His stick frame bore a tattered formal suit, equip with tails whipping around where his legs should be. He was holding a pair of hand-painted signs, each labeling the two directions the path took. The one following the river read, in beautiful flowing letters: To Coast Ferry for the village of Silvanus. The second stated in crude, red letters: GO AWAY!

Sarah frowned as she eyed the smoke rising from the valley. “Well, we may have found that witch that I was talking about.”

Staring down the path along the river, she bit her lip, worriedly. Who knows how far inland they were from the coast. The sun was getting low in the sky, and she knew she had very little sunlight left to the day. As beautiful as the forests around her were, she was leery about sleeping in _any_ enchanted forest. She had learned her lesson in the Labyrinth. Sarah cocked one head at the scarecrow and frowned when she realized the lantern candle in his head wasn’t lit.

“Well, how’s a lantern supposed to work if it’s not lit? What if someone else comes through here and they can’t see which way to go?”

Reaching up towards the candle, she snapped her fingers, and used a spell some of the wiser of the goblin folk had taught her. The brush of magic ignited the wick with an enchanted flame that would never extinguish. Sarah smiled, happy to use magic without it back lashing on her. The turnip head smiled back with a warm glow and the arm holding the sign pointing towards the smoking valley raised, slowly.

Sarah cocked one eyebrow. “Is that where Wyntr lives?”

The scarecrow’s head turned in the same direction.

“Thanks!” Sarah brightened. “Well, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. At least then we won’t freeze tonight, Ashe.” Sarah set her shoulders and tossed Ashe a smile. “If we’re lucky, maybe some dinner too, huh?”

Ashe gave an exaggerated shiver and followed her over the small stone bridge. Her eyes widened as she looked down into the valley and the keep nestled in the center on a tiny hill top. The ramshackle building seemed to be only held together by pure luck and magic. At one side of the wobbly building was a water mill churning merrily in the brook and the towers seemed to wind, haphazardly, towards the sky. The tallest tower hosted what Sarah recognized as a telescope pointed towards the heavens. Tattered flags hung from the turrets and one odd weathervane spun relentlessly, despite the lack of a strong wind. Sarah looked down to Ashe, who gave her a quizzical stare in return.

“What do you think, boy? This look like Wyntr’s place?” Sarah asked, studying the odd architecture. The brightly colored smoke they had seen before billowed from the numerous chimneys. “Jareth said she was an alchemist…”

Ashe returned with a worried cluck and Sarah stroked his golden feathers, lovingly.

“C’mon, you big sissy… Let’s find out.”

The pair made their way to the door of the keep and Sarah raised her hand to the twisted bit of twine that rang the doorbell, tentatively. Bighting one lip, she gave it a few good pulls and nearly leapt from her skin as the muffled roars of a dragon sounded throughout the keep. She cocked her eye at the odd doorbell and after a moment’s wait she reached up to pull the twine again. As her hand closed around the rope, the door swung open and a sliver of light illuminated the interior of the keep. The room was simple, hosting few furnishings, but also had many doors that led to unknown rooms. Sarah stepped inside, slowly, with a watchful Ashe at her side. The gryphon’s eyes flitted about nervously and he gave a nervous cluck.

“Hello?” Sarah called out, her voice echoing in the unknown space. “Is there anyone home?”

“AHEM!!!” A throat cleared and Sarah spun in shock. A puzzled look came across her face as she encountered an ornate, oval mirror next to the door. The entire surface was covered in a fine film of dust and neglect. Cobwebs seemed to connect it to the wall. She stepped closer and reached out to touch the glass with her fingertips. 

“If you don’t mind!” A blurred face appeared in the mirror with a frown. Sarah jumped backwards and a growling Ashe nearly bowled her over. “You’ll smudge me and I’ll look worse than before! And no one _ever_ cleans up around this place!”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Sarah frowned and reached out with one dress sleeve to wipe her fingerprints from the mirror, grimacing at the dust she scrubbed off as well. “It certainly seems like you haven’t been cleaned in a quite some time! I can fix that.”

She reached up and began to gently lift the mirror from its hook.

“Wait! What are you doing?!” The mirror cried out in terror. “Put me back!”

“Oh, hush, you silly thing… I can’t very well talk to you if I can’t see you.” Sarah admonished and blew a stray fluff of hair from her face. By this point, she was quite used to the squabbling amongst goblins when she organized their monthly ‘cleansing time’ and was quite adept at arguing with stubborn magical creatures. “I’ll have you fixed in a jiffy.”

“No wait! Put me down!” The mirror argued, in vain as she gently rested it on the floor to study it. Ashe sniffed the mirror, curiously, and it twitched. “Stop that! What are you doing to me, you _crazy_ girl?!”

“Don’t worry! He won’t hurt you… Surely, I can manage to conjure up cleaning supplies.” Sarah closed her eyes and focused as hard as she could. When she opened her eyes there was a warm bucket of soapy water beside her. She smiled, happily, and dunked her already singed and dirty sleeve into the water. She began to scrub on the mirror, revealing its mercurial surface and golden frame.

“Easy! You’ll crack me!” It cried, fearfully.

“You’ll be fine.” Sarah replied, wiping away at the years of neglect. As she worked the pale and worried face in the mirror became clearer and clearer. Finally, she decided it was the best she could make it. By then the mirror’s squabbles had simmered to worried muttering, so she gently replaced him to his spot on the wall. “There you go. Good as new!”

The mirror breathed a sigh of relief to be back on his perch. He peered at her. “Well, it’s wonderful to finally be able to see! Thank you, my dear girl. Please take the third door on your left!”

A light came from the mentioned door as it creaked open and Sarah saw that it held stairs that led upwards. She turned to smile at the mirror.

“Thank you.”

“A pleasure… Mind that first step.” The mirror replied and began to whistle, happily.

Ashe and Sarah made their way up and were astonished to find the steps ended at a large and open workroom.

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Whoa…”

The vast before her was like something out of a medieval laboratory. There where glass tubs and jars bubbling liquids two and fro, while a great cauldron bubbled away on the hearth. Suspended, in the middle of the room and spinning slowly, was a giant orrery of the stars and planets. Though she was tempted to go up another passage of stairs that seemed to lead to the observatory and telescope, but she instead moved towards the tables hosting the glass jars of bubbling liquids. She reached out one hand towards the glass.

“Don’t touch that!”

Sarah jerked back from the mixture on the table and whirled around at the voice. A woman was behind one of the other tables mixing something together in a small vial over a flame. Her golden-red hair was pulled up into a complicated mess of twin pigtails at the top of her head and she had a pair of leather goggles covering her eyes as she worked. The woman was draped in an abundance of rather drab colored rags and wore a pair of fingerless gloves on her thin hands. She peered at Sarah through the goggles, making her amber eyes seem owl-like.

“Who are you?”

Sarah blinked and stepped forward. “I’m Sarah Williams, ma’am. I was hoping to fin-“

“You that girl then? The one that’s got Jareth in a tizzy?” She gave a small sound that was something between a snort and a laugh as she added another sprinkle of powder to her mixture and watched its color change to a dark purple. She gave a satisfied nod and turned up the heat beneath it. “Figured you’d be this ways sooner or later…”

Sarah glanced at Ashe and he returned her confused look. The woman’s attention returned to her mixture and she added a small vial of a green liquid. Immediately, what she had over the flame turned bright red and, promptly, exploded with a loud bang and an obnoxious cloud of red smoke. At the explosion, Sarah threw her hands up on fright and Ashe flared his wings, giving out a startled screech. Wyntr coughed, miserably, and waved the smoke from her soot smudged face with a grimace.

“Damn… Happens every time I add that basilisk poison…” She mumbled and made a note on the scroll next to her. The woman stepped from behind the table and sized Sarah up. “Well, you hungry?”

Sarah nodded, tentatively, and the woman gestured for her to follow.

“Bring your pet too… I suspect he’d like a hare or two.”

Sarah rushed to catch up with her. “Ma’am, I didn’t mean to barge in here. I’m looking for-“

“Wyntr le Fey… That’s me.” She slid the goggles up on her forehead and rubbed at the soot around her eyes. “Least I was this morning… What time is it?”

“Nearly sunset.”

Wyntr was in the process of opening a trap door near her work table. She paused and pondered for a moment. “What day is it?”

Sarah blinked. “Tuesday.”

“Is it still spring?”

“Almost autumn.”

“That figures.” Wyntr opened the trap door and gestured for the girl to follow her down the steps there. At the bottom, Sarah found them in a small kitchen at the heart of the keep. A small faun was asleep in a chair beside the nearly extinguished embers of the fireplace. A book about the making of wine was about to tumble from his furry fingers. Wyntr studied him for a moment, gave a frustrated snort, and then moved to tend the dying fire. She gestured with the poker at a stool at the table. “Have a seat then. We’ll get him up, shortly… Lazy as the faun is, he’s a right better cook than I am at any rate.”

Sarah took a seat at the large table in the center of the room and Ashe sat on his haunches beside her. He gave her a quizzical look and she shrugged in return. Both were very confused by this strange Fae woman. They both returned their gaze to Wyntr, who was prodding the faun with one dirty fingertip.

“Treffun… Treffun!” She poked him a little harder. “Wake up, you worthless little goat. We have guests!”

“Five more minutes…” He mumbled.

“No. _No_ more minutes.” She insisted. “We have guests.”

“Oh, c’mon, Wyntr…” He grumbled, rather miserably, and refused to open his eyes. “We don’t _ever_ have guests here… We haven’t had guests in better than fifty years.”

“We do today! So, get your lazy bones in gear!” Wyntr, unceremoniously, dumped him from the chair into a heap on the floor. “Go to the larder and fetch three hares.”

He glared up at her with a frown, unhappy to be dumped from his napping spot. “Oh, we won’t eat three hares, Wyntr.”

“No, but they will.” Wyntr gestured to Sarah and Ashe. The faun’s eyes widened when he saw them and Sarah gave him a small wave.

“Oh…” His eyes widened again. “We have guests.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, knucklehead.” Wyntr huffed and flapped at him with her hands. “Off with you! They’ll not be wanting anything I cook tonight!”

The faun scurried away to do her bidding as she returned to stoking the fire back to life, grumbling about worthless fauns the whole time.

“Wyntr…” Sarah began. “I-“

“Fauns are by far one of the laziest of all magical creatures. Unless you’re throwing a party… Fauns are good for celebrating anything.” Wyntr muttered, disdainfully. “You give a jug of wine and a pan flute and they’ll party for days, but are worthless for anything else.”

Wyntr moved from the fire and began to rummage through the cabinets for eating and drinking utensils.

Sarah tried again. “Um, I’m here to-“  
“I know.” Wyntr’s muffled reply came from where she was nearly halfway inside one cupboard, digging for something. She returned with a rather dusty bottle of wine. She blew a layer of dust from the label and studied it with mild scrutiny. Producing a few earthenware mugs, she tugged the cork out to the bottle with her teeth and spit it to one side. Having a seat at the bench across from Sarah, she poured them each a sizeable amount and a bowl full on the floor for Ashe. “Not the best of years, but it’ll do.”

Treffun returned from the larder and presented Ashe with two of the hares, which the gryphon set to with relish. The faun gave a longing look at the bottle of wine, until Wyntr rolled her eyes and poured him a glass. Giving him a loving pat between his curled horns, she shooed him off to the dinner. He grasped the mug, greedily, and moved to begin the stew at the hearth. Wyntr studied the young woman across from her, intently, her long fingers curled around her mug.

“’Tis a long journey from the Goblin City… Even if you use magic. I expect you feel like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet… I’ll have Treffun prepare a room for you and we can start the lessons tomorrow… Or the next day. Depends how my latest experiment goes.”

“My lessons?” Sarah asked, confused.

“You’re very lucky to have Wyntr as a tutor.” Treffun said, cheerfully, over his cup of wine as he stirred the pot resting in the coals. “After all, it’s all her texts and scrolls that they use in the schools nowadays.”

Wyntr gave another snort. “Like most them teachers and governesses know a lick about _real_ magic.”

“How did you know I was here to-“ Sarah began.

“Morgan mentioned you might be swinging by…” Wyntr replied as she finished her glass of wine. “You’ve already impressed my scarecrow and the magic mirror in the front hall or else you’d not have made it this far. They don’t give their allegiance lightly… What token did you give them for their assistance?”

Sarah blinked. “I didn’t give them anything… I just used an everlasting flame spell to light the scarecrow’s lantern.”

“And the mirror?”

“I cleaned him up a bit. He was so dirty he couldn’t see.” Sarah shrugged. “It was nothing.”

“Was he now?” Wyntr gave Treffun a glare. “Perhaps someone’s been slacking on his chores then.”

Treffun gave a small cough. “Been meaning to clean that hall…”

Wyntr returned her gaze to Sarah. “Those were wise favors to have given. Yes, it’ll be nice to teach a student like you again. You are a very nice girl.”

Sarah blushed. “I can have an anger problem sometimes.”

“Of course… We’ve all heard about the tiff between you and the Goblin King-“

“And how you nearly the destroyed the hedge maze.” Treffun added, helpfully.

Sarah blushed. “You heard about that? Already?”

“’Course we did.” The faun gave a little bit of snorting laughter. “Everyone in the Underground’s heard about it by now. Fairies are the worst kind of gossips.”

Wyntr gave him a foul look and took his glass of wine from him. “That’s why you can’t drink wine. It makes your wretched mouth run.”

He pouted and went back to the stew. Wyntr finished his glass and looked back to Sarah.

“Well, I haven’t heard of a display of magic like that since when Jareth first became king… In time, you’ll learn control. We all did.” Wyntr replied and studied Ashe. “He fly?”

“Uh… Ashe doesn’t fly… Not yet anyways.” Sarah gave a glance to the gryphon at her side as he ate his dinner. “He’s afraid of heights.”

Wyntr gave a short guffaw. “That’s a new one! A gryphon that’s afraid of _heights_! Marvelous!”

Ashe gave her a foul glare and Sarah stroked him, fondly. “I don’t care if he ever flies. I like him the way he is.”

“That’s all that’s important, I suppose.” Wyntr replied as Treffun served them both bowls of the hot stew. “Treffun, go an’ get her a room set up.”

“Oh, Wyntr…” He groaned. “I wanted to go back to slee-“

“Get a move on.” She ordered and the faun left again, grumbling to himself about stubborn witches. She called out behind him. “While you’re at it, get me some more toad brain from the cellar… And be snappy about it.”

“Thank you for your help, Wyntr.” Sarah said, meaningfully. “I-“

“It’s no trouble. My home is yours.” Wyntr blew on her hot soup and dipped a piece of crusty bread into it. “It’s not the Grand Palace in Merial, but Sirrocco Keep in my home… That’s all I need and trust me when I say that it’ll be all you need in the testing times to come.”

* * *

Alyx snuck back into Trader’s Post in the dead of the night three days after the fiasco at Junction City. She wanted her horse back and, by the Gods, she would get it. There was no way in hell that she was walking back to Hawker’s Mooring to meet with the Merrow Wind. Returning to the innkeeper’s stables, she found her gelding in his same stall and went to tacking him as silently as she could. As she cinched the saddle, she heard a noise behind her and whirled around, her blade in hand. The elfish girl, Telyn stood at the end of the stall in her patched and undersized nightgown. She held a small turnip lantern in one shaking hand.

“You came back.” Telyn whispered her eyes widening despite the nasty black bruises marring the side of her face.

Alyx reacted quickly, dragging the girl into the stall, her eyes scanning the area to see if anyone had followed her. She then knelt on one knee and took the small girl by the shoulders. “How did you know I was here?”

Telyn gave her a shy look. “I couldn’t sleep… I saw you sneak in from my window.”

Alyx scowled and gave a quick glance towards the barn door. “Is anyone else awake?”

“No. Father and Lunn are passed out by the fire. They spent that gold you gave me at the pub…” She frowned. “They’re drunk.”

“Where is your mother?”

“She’s dead.” The girl replied, bluntly.

Alyx frowned as she sympathized with the predicament the girl was in. She looked to her saddled horse and then back to the young girl’s bruises. After only a moment’s thought, she made her decision. She ceased her simple glamour to reveal her female face. She gave the girl a soft smile. The girls green eyes widened and she gasped.

“Would you like to leave with me, Telyn? Tonight?” Alyx offered.

“Where would we go?” Telyn asked.

Alyx replied, truthfully. “Far away from here.”

Telyn thought for a moment and then nodded, fiercely.

Alyx gave her a happy smile. “Good.”

She told the girl to go to her room and gather her things as quietly as she could. Then she was to meet her out in front of the stables. Alyx ordered her to be quick about it, worried that someone would wake. Giving a quick nod, Telyn disappeared like a flash back to her house. After she finished saddling the horse and stowing her gear, she swung herself astride. As she turned the gelding, Telyn flew around the side of the stable, tears in her eyes.

“Don’t leave me, Aneurin!” Telyn gasped and came to the side of the horse.

“Never.” Alyx smiled, reaching down to pull the young girl up and behind her on the saddle. “Hold on tight to me!”

Clucking to the horse and digging her heels into its side, Alyx urged the gelding into a gallop and they left Trader’s Post far behind them. The wind was pointed south that night and the girls followed it towards Hawker’s Mooring. Wary of straying too terribly far from the Great Roads on the trip back, Alyx took the long way along the Great Grassland Road and towards the Centaur governed city of Chavon. They rode hard until they had left Trader’s Post a safe distance behind them and camped nearer to the shores of the Swift River along the edge of the Austral Grasslands. They spent that first night getting to know one another, both sharing too many similar stories. To cheer her, Alyx told the girl tales of her adventures as they fell asleep under the star filled sky.

After an early start the next morning, Alyx bypassed Chavon and the mistrustful centaurs by following the Swift River rather that the road. Their journey took them through the middle of the Grasslands and Alyx was glad to be able to take the time to ride slow and take in the beautiful countryside. Telyn had also never seen these lands and was delighted when they saw their first herd of unicorns roaming the plains. When they made their camp the next night, Alyx felt at ease enough to keep down her muffler while they rested. She set to cooking their dinner as Telyn wrapped herself in her bedroll and watched.

“Are you going to be my mother now, Aneurin?” Telyn asked and Alyx looked up to her across the fire with a startled gasp.

“I’m in no shape to be a mother to anyone, Telyn.” Alyx answered, truthfully.

“Then what-“

Alyx held up her hand to silence the girl. “I am a pirate, Telyn. A pirate ship is no place for a young girl to be raised… Trust me.”

“I’m not that young.”

“You’re still much too young for a ship rat’s life.”

Telyn frowned. “Then why take me with you?”

Alyx gave the girl a warm smile. “Because I was once where you were and wished for someone to take me away. Like you, I got lucky and someone granted my wish. I thought I’d pass it on.”

“Why can’t I go on the ship with you? I can help! I can pretend to be a boy like you and be a cabin boy or something.” Telyn pleaded.

“No.” Alyx replied, firmly. “That is not a life for you.”

“Then what will you do with me?” Telyn asked, angrily. 

“I’m not sure… Have you any schooling?” Alyx moved to come around the fire and sit next to the girl. At the mention of school, Telyn’s face softened.

“I’ve had some, but there’s not much to be had for good schooling in Trader’s Post.” Telyn’s eyes brightened. “I have always wanted to go to school and then perhaps Court! We could go to Court at Merial, Aneurin!”

Alyx smiled weakly at the girl. “I’m afraid pirates aren’t very welcome in the Glistening Court, dear.”

Telyn frowned. “But they would have to understand! You are _good_ pirate.”

Alyx laughed. “That is a term I’ve never been called… A _good_ pirate indeed! You tell them that when they arrest me for kidnapping you!”

The next morning they woke early and rode on towards Bethmoora, eventually getting back on the Great Grassland Road. Riding along the well traveled roads worried Alyx for she knew that news had already spread of the girl’s kidnapping. Keeping her eyes keen for other rider’s, Alyx rode as hard as she dared, knowing that she was already late to meet the ship and the men would be worried. As the dusk approached, Alyx looked for a good place to camp. Then from the south she heard the thunder of hooves upon the road from where the city of Bethmoora shone in the distance. Telyn squinted as she stared up the road in the failing light.

“Rider’s are coming… And fast.” She commented, worried.

Alyx nodded and rested one hand on the hilt of her sword as they moved along at their same pace. “Aye.”

“Why they are riding so fast?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” Alyx frowned and ordered. “If anything should happen, ride hard to Bethmoora, and do _not_ look back.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Alyx snapped and dismounted and rested one hand on the gelding’s flank. Her free hand moved to the hilt of her blade as the rider’s skidded to a stop before them.

The lead rider gave her a frown as he leaned over his saddle horn. “Yer late.”

Alyx let out a sigh of relief. It was only Morven and Krollin. Morven swung down from his horse and strode towards them. Stopping before her, he put hands on his hips and smirked.

“Lemme hear the excuses, kid.”

“I got held up.” Alyx replied and waved at the steward. “Hello Krollin.”

“Good to see ya alive an’ on two feet, Aneurin.” The elf grinned broadly from his saddle.

Morven eyed Telyn and jerked his head towards her. “Who’s the kid, kid?”

“Telyn, this is the Captain Morven Squall and our steward, Krollin of the Genkis. Say hello.” Alyx made the introductions.

Telyn waved, shyly. “Hello.”

“A pleasure lassie.” Morven gave the girl a warm smile and bow. He turned back to Alyx and asked. “An’ where did she come from?”

“Well, I _technically_ kidnapped her.”

Morven frowned again. “_Technically_ kidnapped?”

Alyx shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“She stole me away in the middle of the night.” Telyn supplied, happily. “It was amazing!”

“An’ here ya were worried that the kid’d managed to get herself into some kind o’ trouble, Morven…” Krollin chuckled and dismounted. “I suggest we make camp and catch up.”

Both Krollin and Morven were like Alyx and took and instant liking to the elfish girl and she to them. By the end of the evening after lots of arguments, mostly yelling between Alyx and Morven about which of them was the biggest dunderhead versus more calm and serious talks that were mostly Krollin’s soft spoken suggestions, produced a solution for the young girl.

“There be a fine finishin’ school in Bethmoora. My little Teutah went there…” Krollin offered. “It be not too far from the sea to make visits to an’ we could set ya up as a merchant’s daughter there. The town is Seelie governed and safe.”

“I can’t afford-“She started and Morven held up one hand.

“We’ll be sponsorin’ ya, lass.”

“But-“

“Belay that. I got nothin’ better to spend me gold on right now. Consider yerself a pet project o’ mine. We’ll see if I can turn a ‘lil slip of an elf into a proper lady.” Morven replied with a wink. “You’ll be safer in Bethmoora than some of the unsavory places we travel.”

“He’s right.” Alyx agreed.

Tears came to Telyn’s eyes. “Won’t you visit me then? You aren’t going to just leave me there, are you?!”

Alyx wrapped her arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “We will try, but there are few places of the Seelie that even a _good_ pirate can tread.”

“Will you always be a pirate?” Telyn asked.

“No… Not forever. Someday I’m going to ride into Bethmoora and come for you.” Alyx replied. “I’ll save gold and we can have a little place of our own. I promise.”

“You’ll ‘ave an education there, Telyn.” Morven explained. “And a chance to go to the Glistenin’ Court. ‘Tis a good life to aim for.”

“That would be a far better life than that of a ship rat.” Alyx added, softly.

“You will still be my family…” Telyn’s wide eyes searched them. “Right?”

“Always.” Morven agreed.

They decided then that Krollin would go back to the ship while Morven and Alyx took Telyn to Bethmoora. Telyn was still not thrilled to lose her newfound friends, but understood that they offered a better life for her. The next day Morven took the girl to the schools and enrolled her as Telyn Squall, the daughter of a traveling merchant. Ensuring that she was safe and had money enough for everything she needed, they spent the rest of the day with the girl, preparing for her new life. After promises of visits to come, Morven and Alyx took their leave of the girl, who they left in the care of the headmistress of the school.

“Anuerin!”

Alyx turned from where she was walking to her horse and the small girl launched herself into her open arms.

“Promise you’ll come back for me?” Telyn gasped, as Alyx held her tight. “Promise?”

“I swear it.” Alyx replied and added the young girl to her list of heavy promises made in the Underground. “I’ll be back. You’ll see.”

“Now, don’t ya go pinin’ away for us. Enjoy yerself here.” Morven ordered and gave the young girl a warm smile. “By the time I get back, I’ll be wantin’ to hear ya recite all of the Queens of Allerleirauh backwards!”

Telyn gave a shaky laugh and extracted herself from Alyx’s arms, wiping at her watery eyes. “Okay.”

“And I’ll expect ya to know what a salad fork looks like and-“

Telyn broke down in laughter and hugged him, tightly. “I’ll miss you guys.”

“No worries, lass … Missin’ us’ll just make it better when we drop back through these parts.” Morven tussled her hair and gave her a gentle nudge back towards the school. “On with ya now… You’ve lessons to learn.”

Telyn returned to the headmistress’s side and both disappeared into the school. Morven and Alyx returned to their horses to prepare to ride.

“Do you think she’ll be okay here?” Alyx asked, already worried.

“’Course she will. I slipped the headmistress a little extra so she’d keep a keen eye out for the little lass… Stop worryin’ so much. We’ve got more important matters to attend to.” Morven said as he turned his horse and began to head for the northern gates of the city.

“Such as?” Alyx asked as she followed him.

“We’re headed for the Goblin City.”

Alyx’s breath caught in her throat at the mention of the city that haunted her dreams. “What?”

“_We’re headin’ for the Goblin City_.” Morven repeated and gave her an odd look. “I have a bit o’ cargo to pick up there… That a problem?”

She shook her head. “No… I just know they are probably looking for me around Trader’s Post.”

“Change yer glamour.” Morven said. “Use them wonderfully handy shoes you’ve got on them feet. Hell, be a woman this go round and really throw them off yer scent. ‘Sides we ain’t going through Trader’s Post. We’re goin’ to cut straight through the Enchanted Wood. ‘Tis a shortcut.”

“And how do you plan on getting through the Labyrinth?” Alyx asked, dryly. “Last I remember only one person has ever solved it.”

Morven laughed as they exited the city and began to head northwest across the plains. “Ya donna ‘ave to run King Jareth’s Labyrinth to reach the Goblin City. There be a merchant’s corridor that leads straight to the city.”

“Oh.” Alyx remained silent, taking in the fact she was going to the one city in all of the Underground that was the least safe for her to step foot in.

“Is there a problem?” Morven asked, arching one eyebrow.  
“No. What about Krollin and the ship?”

“They be waitin’ in Hawker’s Mooring for us to finish this bit o’ business. Don’t ya worry none and leave this to me.”

Alyx remarked, dryly. “That’s what you said last time and _you_ ended up in prison.”

“Good thing I got ya to break me out then, huh?”

* * *

The Seelie royal family was only too glad to hear Jareth’s news of his sighting of Alyx in Junction City. The only thing that made it more joyful was the fact that it had brought Roland from his seclusion and back to the family. What made the moment dreadful was the fight that caused Sarah to flee to Wyntr’s home in the Southern Seas. As the Goblin King stared out over his Labyrinth with his arms crossed over his chest, his thoughts drifted between his lost queen and his lost younger brother. It seemed that he was rather good at losing people these days. Jareth conjured a crystal and let it roll around his hands with ease. Gazing into it, he nearly whispered his first order.

“Show me Sarah.”

Smoke swirled through the crystal, but no image came. He frowned. She was blocking him. Impressive. Not even a week in Wyntr’s care and he couldn’t even peek in on her anymore. The crazy bat must have taken a liking to his Sarah. Tossing the crystal over one shoulder, he moved his gaze toward the South. At least she was in good hands with Wyntr. She would learn much about her magic and the Alchemist would keep her safe from the Unseelie. Perhaps, she would learn to forgive him for his faults, as minor as he believes they were, as well.

He conjured another crystal, but this time gave it a different command.

“Show me Jaron.”

The clear crystal grew cloudy for a moment and then began to focus on his brother. Jaron was running. Jareth’s grip on the crystal tightened when he realized the Goblin Prince was running across the Austral Grasslands from the city of Havelock on the coast. Jareth watched, his mouth dry as Jaron’s racing body upset a herd of unicorns and they began to race across the field as if they ran with him. Jaron looked horrible. His face was a swollen mass of bruises and through the rags that served to cover his body Jareth could see bloody welts lining his back and chest. Even though he limped, Jaron ran hard. That’s when Jareth saw what chased his brother. The orc guards followed close behind, upon the backs of pookas and threw spears towards the Goblin Prince.

Jareth prepared to transport himself to go to his brother’s aid when one of the orcs threw out a rope, lassoing his brother around the feet. Jerking hard on the rope, the orc cackled when Jaron was tripped and landed face first into the dirt. Struggling to free his legs from the rope as the orcs approached, Jaron tore at the knot with broken fingers. The orc who had lassoed him approached first, reaching for the Goblin Prince’s tangled hair. Jaron jerked from his reach and swung his fist, connecting with the side of the orc’s head. The creature stumbled back while the others jumped Jaron, pinning him to the ground. The orc he had hit felt the side of his head and snarled when his hand came away red with blood. He raised his club and brought it down upon Jaron’s face, smashing his nose and splattering blood. Jaron’s head fell limp.

“Drag him behind the pookas… All the way to her Majesty.” The orc ordered and spat upon the unconscious Goblin Prince.

Jareth’s hand clenched on the crystal, shattering it into dust so he would not have to see another minute. He sighed in frustration.

“I try not to scry on him, for when I do, it is usually sights more horrific than that.” Jiera’s soft voice cut through his anger. “But every time, I still look, just so that I know he is alive.” 

Jareth turned towards the door, sharply. “Mother…”

She watched him with worried eyes. “I have learned that sometimes it is best not to scry on those we love for it leaves us heartbroken…”  
“I agree, but I would rather to see something, than nothing at all. No matter how terrible.”

Jiera went to her son and put a hand upon his pale cheek as tears came to her eyes. “Was it bad?”

Jareth nodded. “Yes.”

The Dowager Goblin Queen let her son envelop her into his arms and she breathed, shakily. Jareth held his mother, tightly and kissed the top of her head.

“I feared you would never speak to me again.” Jareth confessed. “I thought you hated me.”

“No. I could never hate you. I know that what’s said is said, but I know you truly did not mean those words that condemned Jaron. You try to save him everyday.”

“I’m glad. Perhaps then you could tone down Rowan a little now?” Jareth said with a small smile. “She is driving me batty.”

Jiera chuckled. “I will try. I fear that I wish to be in on the planning that Jora tells me she does. Jora also told me your news of Alyx in Junction City. Jorall was thrilled that his christening skills were adequate even then. Smug is what he’s become as of late.”

Jareth sat down at the window sill and chuckled. “If his head gets any bigger we shall have to tie weights to his feet to keep him from floating away.”

“I agree… So, I have heard that you and Sarah had another nasty row and she left for Wyntr’s.”

“Yes... She was rather angry when she left.”

“Indeed. I saw what’s left of the hedge maze… You must give her time… Let Wyntr teach her a few things and let Sarah calm down… Now come, and take a late dinner with me. I fear that there is much more catching up we must do.” Jiera held her hand out to her eldest child. Jareth took her hand and let her lead him into the halls.

A goblin stumbled into their path and saluted to his king, awkwardly. “Your Majesty!”

“Yes?” Jareth frowned. “What is it?”

“We captured the twins, Clud and Slud, trying to sell two bags of deadly nightshade in the Goblin City.”

“Then throw them in an oubliette.” Jareth ordered. “Stop bothering me with trivial mat-“

“Sire, they have already taken money from the merchant… He will be here tomorrow for his cargo.”

Jareth cursed and turned back to his mother. “I’m sorry, Mother. Duty calls.”

“I understand.”

Jareth turned back to the goblin before him. “Take me to Clud and Slud.”

The goblin led the way on quaking legs to the prisoners, tied up in the throne room. While waiting for their king, the other goblins decided to amuse themselves by either poking the prisoners with sticks or gluing random objects to them. When Jareth arrived they were, with little success, trying to glue a chicken to Slud’s head. The Goblin King frowned as he entered the din of his throne room.

“Quiet!” Jareth ordered and the goblins froze mid-cackle. “Clean up this bloody mess and get those damned chickens out of my throne room!”

A quick frenzy began of goblins clamoring to clean and catch the chickens. Jareth walked through the din and reached down to grasp each of the captives by their bindings and lift them to his eye level.

He gave them a jagged smile. “Hello, Clud and Slud.”

The twin goblins swallowed hard.

“Hello-“ Clud began.

“-majesty.” Slud finished, feathers falling from his lips.

“Where did you find the deadly nightshade?”

The pair both pointed in separate directions from one another and Jareth gave them a hard shake, rattling both of their skulls together, and creating a sound similar to shaking maracas.

“I trust that has jogged your memories?” Jareth gave them a sharp smile.

Both nodded and pointed south in unison.

Clud spoke first. “We found it growing-“

“-south of the Labyrinth.” Slud ended.

“Lot of it there-”

“-in the Enchanted Wood.”

“Why are you selling it in my Labyrinth? Why not take that particular item to Trader’s Post?” Jareth asked. “You draw Unseelie here, you pathetic wastes of space!”

“We’re so-“ Clud pleaded.

Slud blubbered. “-sorry, majesty.”

Clud continued. “We are-“

“-unworthy pond scum!” Slud wailed.

“We are unfit-“

“-to shine your boots!”

“We are slime-“

“-on the soles!”

“Morons!” Jareth gave them a shake to shush them. “Who did you sell it to?”

“Never met him-“

“-only his steward.”

“Paid us very-“

“-well in gold.”

“He payed-“

“-in Bethmoora.”

Jareth dropped the goblins to the floor with a dull thud. Both groaned and stared up at their king. “Where were you meeting the merchant?”

“At the Gates-“

“-to the Goblin City.”

Jareth’s eyes narrowed. “When?”

* * *

After almost a week of rough travel through the thick Wood, Morven and Alyx arrived at their destination. They camped for the evening just outside of the Labyrinth’s looming outer walls. Fairies flitted about the sparse bushes lining the wall, but Alyx knew they were biters, so she gave them a wide berth. Morven set to making the fire while she disappeared into the woods to try to get her shoes to change. Almost an hour later, he sat staring into the flames and smoking, absently, from his pipe when Alyx approached. He glanced up at her figure as she moved around the fire and his pipe nearly fell from his lips. He sputtered as smoke went down the wrong hole and sat up, coughing.

“Oh, Morven, please don’t laugh at me. I feel ridiculous!” She said and he just stared at her, gape jawed. She clapped her hands over her burning cheeks. “Stop staring at me like that. These shoes have a mind of their own sometimes.”

Somehow, Morven found his voice and said, softly. “I ain’t never seen ya in no dress before.”

“Oh, go ahead and laugh!” Alyx moved her hands over her eyes.

“Ya look fantastic!” Morven gasped as he looked her up and down. The shoes did seem to have a mind of their own, but it was a good mind. The dress it had conjured was a beautiful jade green that flowed around her slender body. Long bell sleeves reached all the way to the forest floors and the hems were trimmed in silver threading. A delicate silver chain cinched the dress low on her waist and trailed down the back of the dress. The dress included a hood that Alyx had pulled up over her dark hair that was no longer short, but curled into a plaited bun at her nape.

Alyx looked down at herself. “I do?”

“You do.” Morven rose and went to stand before her with a smile. “Ya look beautiful, Alyx. Pert near like a real lady.”

Alyx winced and looked about when he said her name, expecting the entire Goblin City’s army to come rushing at her from all directions. “Don’t call me that name around here. Fairies are terrible gossips!”

“Got enemies in the Goblin City, do ya?” Morven smirked.

“Something like that.” Alyx sat down next to the fire and attempted to change the subject. “So, why do we have to go to the Goblin City?”

Morven caught her tactic and let her have her way. He rubbed his hands together, happily “Me new, surefire plan on how to make us a fat load of gold for nothin’.”

Alyx groaned, wearily. “_What_ plan?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this a lot while ya went on your wee holiday.” Morven explained. “Whilst roamin’ ‘bout in Bethmoora, I found me two bags of primo deadly nightshade. A couple of dunderheaded goblins from the Labyrinth were sellin’ ‘em for next to nothin’!”

“_And_?”

“I happened to ‘ave heard tale that the Darklin’ Court is payin’ a lot of money for nightshade these days. ‘Tis a running special amongst the courtiers… I can arrange a wee palaver with a Court official and sell it to him for the Dark Queen herself.”

“Two bags?” Alyx scoffed. “You’ll not even catch their eye. That lot will want much more than two measly bags.”

“Then comes me great plan, bucko! We’ll fill other bags with poison ivy and sell the whole lot to them as deadly nightshade!” Morven beamed, proud of his newest scheme.

“You think you can trick the Queen of Air and Darkness with poison ivy?” Alyx scoffed and rested her chin on one hand. “You’re _stark raving mad_. That time in Bergtroll’s dungeon has left you rattled in the skull, mate.”

“See, there be the beauty of me plan! We’re not dealin’ with Mab. We’ll be sellin’ the lot to some lacky o’ hers. A lowly Count or Duke or somethin’ of that sort. The man’s a fool. His name was Lauren or Lollier or some rubbish.”

“Are you sure that she _will not_ be there?” Alyx asked.

“Maybe he was called Llyod…” Morven continued musing, twirling his beard with one hand. “Lindsey? Yeah, I think his name was Lindsey…”

“_Morven_!” Alyx forced his attention back on her and asked him, seriously. “Are you _absolutely certain_ that Mab will _not_ be there?”

“But o’ course! The Court is spendin’ this season in Havelock. She’ll be miles an’ miles away on the coast while we be conductin’ business in Gair!”

Alyx thought for a moment and frowned. “I’m not sure if I like this idea, Morven.”

“Call me Blinken. You’ll be Nod. We ain’t got a Wynk this time, but we’ll make due.” Morven grinned and rubbed his hands together, gleefully. “I found me a grand lil’ charm that’ll make us both look like those elves what hail from ‘round Honah Lee an-.”

“You’re going to get us killed! You remember Bergtroll, right? Should I show you some of my scars to remind you or do I just need to remind you of yours?” She rose and stalked a few feet away from the fire. ”I _will not_ go with you to Gair. After we get your nightshade, I’m riding back to the ship. Go on this death mission _alone_.”

Morven frowned. “Oh, Alyx. Do ya really think that I’d-“

“Stop calling me that!” Alyx hissed, looking around nervously.

Morven’s eyes flashed and he spat out. “Oh? What alias is it today, kid? Anuerin? Enan? Careful on wearin’ some o’ ‘em names out…”

“Today I’m partial to Javas, the Elfish Witch of Naga Coast.” Alyx retorted, her hands upon her hips in defiance.

“_You’ve never even been to Naga Coast_!” Morven scoffed. “And yer no witch!”

“So?”

“Fair enough, _Javas_. Ya can ride back to Hawker’s Mooring tomorrow…” Morven conceded with a smirk. “_After_ ya help me get me nightshade.”

“Deal.”

* * *

“Listen Ashe, I don’t like being back in the Labyrinth yet either, but I need at least _some_ of my things.” Sarah explained to the snarling gryphon as she packed up her things from Jareth’s quarters in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City.

After nearly a week and after Wyntr’s latest experiment nearly burned down the keep, the witch had suggested that Sarah begin her lessons by returning home for a few of her possessions and attempting to be as civil to the Goblin King as possible. The Alchemist was also using that time to repair the damage to the keep. Sarah thought it to be quite a stupid lesson, but realized she did need her things. Ashe on the other hand, was still fuming at their return to the place that caused her so much emotional harm before. He could sense that she was uneasy. He gave a snort of disgust and flopped down on the floor of her room. She gave him a dirty look and returned to packing dresses from her wardrobe.

Sarah was still trying to figure out how she should take Jareth’s reaction when she had contacted him and arrived at the palace. His tone was cool as he told her that whatever she needed from his castle was hers, but he offered little other words before leaving her to her own devices. Sighing, she sat down on her bed heavily. Today was turning out to be a pretty stress filled day.

Ashe nuzzled her hand in comfort and Sarah gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll be okay. Whatever doesn’t kill you, right?”

* * *

It was not until the next morning that Alyx realized that Morven intended for her to pick up his nightshade because his face was too well known in the Goblin City for their business.

“See, I sold too many bad crates of chickens to them goblins an’ they won’t do business with me.” Morven explained.

“How can you sell a ‘bad’ crate of chickens?” Alyx asked, curiously.

“Well, it involves the rationin’ of food vs. what form of fowl actually _qualifies_ as a chicken and- Bah, belay that! Point is that not a one will buy or sell with me anymore. That’s why I had Krollin buy the stuff in the first place.”

“It’s no wonder people like cursing you.” Alyx grumbled as they rode through the merchants corridor that led to the Goblin City.

Morven ignored her and began to describe the two little goblins she was to meet. “They’re ‘bout two foot nothing and they both won’t shut their bloody mouths for anythin’. Always finishin’ the other’s sentences and jabberin’ on and on…”

“You just described most of the goblins here.” Alyx retorted, angrily. “Where will I look for them at?”

“By the Gates to the Goblin City. They said they’d meet me there at about nine… ish” Morven looked up to the sky. “Ya should be right on time.”

“And where will you be?”

“Up the street at a wee pub that I tend to frequent on the rare occasions I pass through here. It be the Roasted Chicken Pub.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought that you weren’t _liked_ here?”

“I never said that. I said that people don’t like to do business with me, not that they don’t like me. I’m actually very well liked by them goblin folk. Are you, _Javas_?”

By this point Alyx was no longer listening to him because they had come to the gates of the Goblin City and she was recalling when she first had run through these very gates and met her Goblin Prince. Her world seemed to slow down as she, again, passed through the gates and she, vaguely, heard Morven saying her name. Her horse stopped at the end of the street where a group of goblins stood cheering around a mud puddle with two figures wrestling inside. Her breath caught when it seemed like she was reliving her past, but she then realized it was only two goblins in the puddle and not her prince.

Snapping out of her memory, she turned back to Morven. “What?”

“Ya right there, mate?” Morven asked, concerned.

“I’m fine. I’m to meet them here by the gate, right?”

Morven nodded. “Yeah. I’m goin’ on to the pub. Are you-”  
“I’ll be there soon.” Alyx replied and eased her horse under an eave to stay out of the coming rain showers.

Morven gave a shrug and began to ride away. Heading up the street, he aimed for the pub, getting inside right before it began to rain. He sidled up to the bar and had the goblin behind the bar serve him a stiff drink. He looked around at the nearly empty pub, and caught the tail end of one elderly goblin’s conversation.

“-caught the fools trying to sell deadly nightshade in the city. They might as well have asked Mab if she wanted to stay the night! I can’t believe the fools… Pulling that kind of foolishness in these dark times!”

The other goblin with him spat upon the floor with a grunt. “King Jareth is furious, no doubt.”

Morven frowned and that was when he heard the royal trumpets sounding. Dread filled his chest.

“Bloody, _bloody_ hell!” Morven cursed and raced out the door into the rain.

* * *

The rain had begun to pour as Alyx pulled up the hood on her dress. Though it looked thin and breezy the shoes made the gown warm and dry for her. She gripped her reigns in her shaky hands, looking for a pair of goblins that resembled Morven’s description. What she did not see as she was searching was the nest of garden fairies in the eaves above her head. One particular fairy peered down at her with great interest, almost falling from its perch in its excitement. Alyx’s attention was snagged when she heard trumpets sound and watched the goblins in the street run about in confusion and chaos. She looked around for whatever it was causing the commotion. Her horse began to shuffle its feet, nervously, and snort. She was prepared to flee when Jareth was suddenly at her side, stilling her antsy horse. Gasping in fear, her hand went for her dagger at her waist and he caught her wrist, firmly, but gently. She stared down into his mismatched eyes and the frown upon his sharp face.

Morven didn’t even grab his horse when he raced out of the pub, but began to sprint back towards the gates, his boots sinking into the mud. Royal trumpets usually meant trouble and Morven remembered Alyx’s fear of the Goblin King in Hawker’s Mooring. When he raced around a corner and the gates came into view, he saw her. He skidded to a stop, catching himself from landing in the mud. He ducked behind the nearest pile of junk and peeked out. She was still upon her horse, but the Goblin King was at her side and holding her wrist. Morven cursed and then blinked when he realized it did not look like Alyx upon the horse. The woman there was in the same dress, but she was a dusky-skinned elf with brown hair and chocolate colored eyes. Her glamour had camouflaged her very well. Her magic was getting stronger. Morven crept closer so he could hear and possibly intervene.

Alyx stared down at the Goblin King and a strained smile came to his lips. “Please stay your weapon, lady. I wish you no ill will. I am sorry that I was not here to greet you sooner.”

Alyx gave him a stunned look, expecting him to arrest her right on the spot. “W-what?”

“You are a visitor to the castle correct?” Jareth raised one eyebrow. “I was on my way here to settle another matter when my guar-“

“I am no visitor to your castle, Your Grace.” Alyx shifted nervously in her saddle as she realized that her glamour had made her unrecognizable to Jareth. “I am merely a merchant awaiting my wares.”

Jareth’s eyes narrowed. “Then it seems that you are still my concern, madam. That was the other matter that I was on my way here to settle. Deadly nightshade was it? Who are you?”

Alyx frowned. “Are you always this rude to visitors to your city?”

Jareth frowned back. “Only those I consider Unseelie and it is the Unseelie who are buying nightshade in bulk at this time, madam.”

“And witches.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jareth asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Witches, Your Grace. We _also_ buy deadly nightshade.”

“You’re a witch?”

She bowed her head with a slight grin. “I am… I’m known as Javas, the Elfish Witch of Naga Coast. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

“I’m afraid that I have not. You are quite far from Naga Coast, Javas.”

“My business makes me travel far and wide, Goblin King. All towns need a good touring witch.”

“You do not look like a witch.” Jareth replied. “How am I to know that you are not lying to me?”

“I live my life within neither Court, Your Highness.” Alyx replied, firmly. “I could care less if you think I’m lying to you.”

Jareth’s eyes narrowed upon her. “I do not allow deadly nightshade to be sold in my Labyrinth.”

“And what fool would be stupid enough to buy deadly nightshade in your city?”

“You did.”

Alyx chuckled, enjoying her tricking of the Goblin King. “No, I never said I had bought deadly nightshade in your city. I just said witches like my self _do_ buy it.”

Jareth frowned. “Then you did not buy deadly nightshade in my city?”

“No, but that nightshade you have does belong to me.”

Jareth glared up at her. “Then you have lied to me!”

“No. The nightshade was paid for in Bethmoora. I am only gathering my merchandise.” Alyx replied. “I’ve broken no rules in your city.”

“Ah, a loophole…” Jareth gave a low chuckle and narrowed his eyes at the girl. “Smart girl.”

“Stupid king.” She retorted. “May I have my nightshade so I may be on my way?”

“Please, Javas of Naga Coast, allow me to apologize for my rude behavior.” Jareth gave her a small bow. “Rogue Unseelie have run rampant as of late and we have just had a kidnapping in Trader’s Post… A young elfish girl was kidnapped by pirates. You’ll understand if I am wary of strangers in my city.”

“You’re not the only one... My nightshade?”

Jareth produced two bags with the snap of a finger and set to attaching them to her saddle. “May I extend the offer for you to join my family in the Castle for din-“

“No, thank you, Your Highness. I must be on my way.” Alyx gave him a curt nod as she turned her horse and rode in the direction that Morven disappeared. When she rounded the corner, she saw Morven, who stared at her, gape-jawed. She snarled. “Stop staring like a buffoon and get your horse. We need to get the hell outta here!”

* * *

The small garden fairy watched Alyx and Jareth’s interaction with wide eyes and when Alyx rode away, it began to fly towards the Castle Beyond the Goblin City as fast as it’s tiny wings would take it. Dodging the raindrops, it circled the first two towers and then up around the Eastern tower. It flitted through the window and towards where Sarah was sitting at Jareth’s desk attempting to write a civil letter of thanks to Jareth. The fairy began to circle her head and whistled, shrilly. Sarah squinted as she tried to keep her eye on the fairy.

“What’s the matter, little one?” The little fairy tried to land on the desk, but in its panic landed in the ink bottle that Sarah had been dipping her pen into. It came out sputtering and shaking ink from its wings. Sarah chuckled and produced a handkerchief for the fairy to clean up with. “Now what’s wrong with you?

Squeaking and gesturing out the window, the small thing tried to convey, without words, what it had just seen, but Sarah only looked at it confused. “I don’t understa-“

There was the sudden rush of magic and Jareth appeared in the room, cursing. “Of all the rude and arrogant and… By the Gods that witch was rude!”

He huffed across the room and collapsed into the chair nearest to the desk where Sarah sat. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave an agitated huff. Sarah gave him a puzzled look and looked back to the fairy who shrugged. Ashe gave a hiss of protest, but remained in his spot near the hearth. Sarah sat down her quill and studied him with curious eyes.

“Who put you in such a sourpuss mood?” Sarah asked, cautiously and leaned back in her chair. “At least I know it wasn’t me this time.”

“It was a witch. Those dunderheaded twins, Clud and Slud, sold a batch of nightshade to her and I met her in the market.” Jareth’s lips pursed as if he tasted something sour. ”She had to be the rudest and most conniving woman I have ever had to deal with. You should have heard the venom that spewed from her lips!”

“She pulled one over on you didn’t she?” Sarah asked, wisely.

“Oh, yeah she did…”Jareth admitted with a grimace. “And I let her! I didn’t even threaten to throw her into the Bog even once… Although in retrospect, I should have… Yes, I think a Bogging would have done well for her attitude and demeanor…”

Sarah watched him ramble, angrily, with a small smile upon her face. Suddenly, he stopped and threw his gaze upon her.

“I apologize for intruding upon your time packing. I had intended to let you be while you gathered your things, but I was ready to Bog the entire castle and I needed the safety of my quarters.” Jareth apologized and then gave her a small smile. “Plus, I knew you would talk me out of it.”

“Bog Clud and Slud. That’ll make you feel better.” Sarah supplied.

“Unfortunately, they are already in the Bog… It’s a shame I can’t doubly Bog someone… Perhaps I can conjure up another Bog and then banish them to it?” Jareth mused. “What do you think? Would you like a Bog of Eternal Shrieks for your birthday, precious?”

Sarah snorted. “You don’t even remember when my birthday is.”

Jareth opened his mouth to retort and then snapped it shut. He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, _that’s_ cheating. You’ll not drag me into a fight with you. Not when we’re getting along so fabulously.” Suddenly, his attention drifted from her and to his desk. “What is that creature doing to my things?”

“Oh, the little garden fairy? It came in and-“

“What is it doing?” Jareth eyed the small fairy as it dunked its hands in the ink pot and went to work on the wooden desktop before it. He frowned. “It’s ruining my antique willow wood desk…”

Sarah looked over and gasped, reaching out to stop the small fairy. Catching herself, mid-grab, she stared down at the page. “Jareth! Look at this!”

At the sound of her voice, the Goblin King was at her side in an instant. He peered over the shoulder at the mess upon the desk and his jaw dropped. The fairy was in the process of finishing a very lifelike portrait of a woman on a horse. The view was from above, as if the fairy had looked down from a perch at her. From under the hood on her dress peeked out a face that the Goblin King knew very well.

“Alyx.” Sarah breathed and touched the drying ink, gently. “The little fairy has seen her.”

“Somewhere rather close as well.” Jareth frowned and looked towards the window. “The garden fairies almost never leave my Labyrinth.”

The fairy beamed up at Sarah, knowing it did a job well done, and flitted out the window into the rain.

* * *

Plans had changed for Alyx since her brush with Jareth in the Goblin City. Instead of heading back for the ship, she now rode on with Morven north-west towards Bavol and then onwards to Gair. They rode hard across the Mounds and into Darkwood Copse for three days, speaking to one another very little. Purposely, they stayed off the Great Roads until they reached Bavol. Upon reaching the city at the edge of Darkwood Copse and the dry deserts of Dragon Wastes, Morven found them a room at an out of the way inn. Bavol was like many of the cities of the Underground that held no real alliance to either the Seelie or Unseelie Courts. It was a city of strangers who traveled to and fro in their great caravans, some on even greater quests. The town was ruled by a trio of knights who, oddly enough, were knights of the Unseelie, but held little to do with the Court. After tending to their horses, Morven and Alyx retired to the small room.

Once the door was shut behind them, Morven began to barrage her with questions. “So… The Goblin King is who yer so scared of, huh? Why?”

Alyx frowned as she sat. She didn’t want to talk about what happened in the Goblt5in City. All she wanted was to take off her boots and get a hot bath. “I’m not afraid of him. Drop the subject. I just want to scrub some of this road filth off an-”

“Oh, no I’m not droppin’ this!” Morven grabbed her arms and gave her a harsh shake, his voice stern. “You’ve avoided this conversation for three days, but I’ve waited for answers from you long ‘fore now, lass! Why are ya so terrified of the Seelie Court and the Goblin King?”

Struggling against his iron grip, Alyx snarled and cursed in Goblinese. Fire flashing in her icy blue eyes, she slammed one heel down upon Morven’s toe. He bellowed in pain, relaxing his grip on her, and she slipped out of his reach. In one quick movement, she grabbed her small pack and was gone out the door. Cursing, Morven sat down on the bed, rubbing his sore foot. He then cursed himself for scaring her like that. He was just terrified that he couldn’t keep her safe. If the Goblin King was searching for her, things might be dire for the girl indeed and Morven didn’t intend on anyone hurting her.

Alyx raced from the inn and down the crowded streets of Bavol. After a while she slowed, realizing Morven did not follow her from the room. It had been foolish for her to run away like that, but the less people who knew her past, the better. Maybe if she gave him a few hours to cool down, he’d drop the whole subject and they could get on with their job. She drew her dark cloak around herself, tightly, and pulled up the hood. Seeking out the nearest pub, she quickly found one that boomed with business, even at the late hour. Slipping through the doors, she settled herself at a small table in a dark corner, and ordered an ale from a waitress that wandered through. The place seemed respectable enough, filled with fairytale creatures of every sort. Her eyes drifted across the card game near the fireplace that hosted a wiry elf, a pair of squat goblins and a drunk Clurichan. She thought of joining the game, but decided against gambling in a strange town. With skilled hands, she drew out her long pipe and nearly went for her dagger when a match was lit before her face.

“A light for the lady?”

Alyx looked up to see a Fae man standing next to her table and offering her a light. Like most Fae men she had come across he was handsome and he knew it. He gave her his most charming smile as she studied him. His black hair was cut short and obviously meticulously cared for. His left ear was pierced four times and golden hoops dangled there. A tailored suit of blue and white cased his thin frame and was obviously expensive. She accepted the light and puffed, thoughtfully, on her pipe as he studied her in return.

“If you are looking for a whore, sir… Bugger off.” She drawled, letting the smoke roll from her lips. “I ain’t for sale.”

He sat across from her and smirked. “Are you always so sharp-tongued to those who offer you a bit of fire, madam?” The nymph returned with Alyx’s ale and the Fae across from her produced a coin and raised an eyebrow. “With your permission?”

“It’s your gold.” Alyx shrugged and puffed on her pipe, watching him carefully.

“I am Ullock Dilwyn, the Wolf of Bavol.” He seemed proud of himself and this title.

Alyx took a sip of her drink and gave him a blank look. He frowned, obviously unhappy she had not heard of him and then he chuckled a little. “Are you always this cold, madam?”

“Yes.”

“You are a very intriguing woman.” He smiled, slyly. “What is your name?”

“I am called Javas the Witch by some.” Alyx replied, coolly. She then asked, bluntly. “Why are you at my table, Ullock the Wolf?”

He chuckled at her bluntness and replied. “You are the most beautiful woman here. I wanted to be the first to buy you a drink and ask you to dinner.”

“You are wasting your time then.” Alyx took another swallow of her ale. “I am only here for a drink.”

“Then, please, allow me to engage you in a little conversation in the meantime.” Ullock replied, smoothly.

She shrugged. “If you wish.”

“What brings you to Bavol, Javas?”

“Business.”

“Of what kind?”

She smirked. “Potions and hexes, spells and mixtures.”

“You are a gypsy then?”

“I’m a witch.”

Ullock chuckled, slightly. “You do not look like a witch.”

“So, I’ve been told.” An idea sparked in Alyx’s mind and she gave him a coy smile. “I specialize in love potions, liquid luck, and aphrodisiacs.”

His interest perked. “Oh?”

“Oh, yes.” Alyx dug down into her bag and produced a small vile of a glowing orange liquid. She shook it between her two fingers and smiled. “Interested?”

* * *

Morven had searched the streets of Bavol high and low for Alyx, but to no avail. He had given up hope and returned to the inn where he had booked their room. Attached to the inn was a small, pub, so Morven decided to stop in and drown his sorrows in a pint or two. Upon entering, he nearly screamed for joy when he saw Alyx sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of ale. Morven sidled up beside her and she gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.

“I thought you’d left for good, kid.” Morven admitted.

She shrugged. “I thought about it, but who’d be there to keep you from getting killed?”

“Well, that used to be Krollin’s gig. Methinks he’s glad you’ve come along… His back’s not what it used to be, ya know… I’m glad ya came back.”

“So am I. Want a drink?”

“I canna say no to a neat bit of whiskey.” He replied taking his seat. “Did ya sell some potions or charms for drinkin’ gold?”

“Yep.” She ordered them both a shot and the pair sat in silence for a few moments. She then said, softly. “Look Morven, I don’t want to talk about my past… Please don’t try to make me.”

“Agreed.” Morven returned. “Just give me fair warnin’ if we’re headin’ for trouble due to it. Deal?”

She gave a weak smile. “Deal.”

The pair mended their bridges over shots of whiskey that night and prepared to ride for Gair the next day. Alyx was still against Morven’s insane plan of trying to pass of poison ivy as nightshade, but he insisted that the plan was crazy enough to work. They bought a wagon before leaving Bavol to hitch to Morven’s horse and headed off through Darkwood Copse towards Gair. They stopped often at poison ivy patches and Morven donned thick gloves to stuff the burlap bags that he stored in the back of the wagon to their brim. Meanwhile Alyx stitched close each bag he filled. Mid trip, her shoes changed her clothing back to the travelling clothes and duster she had worn before. Morven cast his own glamour to make himself look more like Alyx and elfish. The story they rehearsed was that they were Blinken and Nod, twin elves from Honah Lee. Alyx was quite unsure of their flimsy aliases as well. She was unsure of most aspects of his hair-brained plan, so she began practicing more each day with her magic and spells, hoping she would not be forced to use them like in Bergtroll.

By morning of the third day they had arrived in Gair. This town was different than Bavol in the fact that Gair was entirely Unseelie governed. The narrow and muddy streets were swamped with Unseelie traders and buyers, most fighting over their wares rather than haggling. Morven took them to the gates of the keep at the center of the city. The orc guards hissed as he approached and lowered their spears to halt them.

“Who goes there?” One snarled.

“Blinken and Nod. We be merchants to see Lord Lorimer.” Morven replied.

“Lord Lorimer is away!” The other spat. “He will not return until sunset. Come back then if you have business with him!”

Turning the cart around, Morven cursed the orc guards under his breath. “Snotty little bastards.”

“Great… What do we do until sunset, Blinken?” Alyx asked, dryly.

“We wait, I suppose.” Morven clucked.

* * *

Sarah did not stay long in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. She caught Jareth and herself bickering later that evening, so she decided that she needed to return to Wyntr’s home. She held off her departure until Jareth’s search of the entire Labyrinth produced no sign of her dear friend. This saddened both of them, but at least they had some news on the elusive girl.

Upon her return to Sirroco Forest, Wyntr set her to studying many texts and scrolls on magic. Using one end of the table near the hearth in the kitchen, Sarah poured over the texts, hoping she could retain all that she was reading. Just when Sarah thought she had read all the books in the keep, Wyntr would arrive with more. The latest being the histories of famous Underground Queens. Though she was hard at work at her lessons, Sarah and Ashe still found the time to explore their new home with Wyntr as a guide. Sarah was astounded when she showed them a nearby lake that housed a small island in its center. In the growth she could make out the ruins of a castle. Common sense told her that it was the very castle that the 12 Dancing Princesses of Aboveground fable had visited and she was in awe. Wyntr confirmed the tale with a snort, calling the princesses ‘a lot of snub nosed strumpets’. Despite her odd nature, everyday Wyntr was teaching Sarah some sort of valuable lessons. The witch was the patient teacher that the young queen-to-be needed.

Though, many of Wyntr’s wild experiments Sarah found rather dangerous to be around when in progress. After she nearly burnt down the keep, the witch managed to cast a bad enchantment that caused all the chairs to wonder around by themselves. Shortly after that, she conjured up a foul-mouthed little fire demon in the kitchen hearth who nagged at Sarah for a week before he wandered away. One morning, Sarah woke up to find a clock work imp the Alchemist had crafted. It was terrorizing the mirror in the front hall. Then one of her liquid vials overflowed and burned a hole through the solarium floor and into Treffun’s room. It certainly was an adventure living in Wyntr’s home. Definitely not for the faint of heart. Perhaps it was all the wild experiments that scared off any visitors to her home. It made things rather peaceful, at times, with no one calling on them everyday. Sarah rather enjoyed the fact that she could practice her magic without goblins underfoot, but she still found herself missing her life in the Goblin Kingdom. This only led to her burying herself in her studies, hoping the time it would take to make her a queen would pass quickly.

* * *

She was bored with the sea, Mab decided, as she stared out from her tower room in Havelock. The sea spray tousled her wild and loose hair, as she drew her robe around her body. Turning her attention from her window and back to the nude man in her bed, she smiled. Slinking her way back into the bed, she drew her arms over his quaking and bloody skin. Jaron bit back his groan of revulsion as she licked his blood from his wounded shoulder. Leaning back with a frown, she dug her finger into one of the wounds, causing him to gasp in pain.

“They tell me that the Goblin Prince tastes of sin and starlight.” Mab mused. ”Why is it that when I drink your blood, I taste nothing?”

Jaron gritted his teeth. “Because I am not yours to taste!”

Mab frowned. “Why are you so defiant? All it would take is a little submission on your part and your life could be so much easier. You would not need to try to escape, because things could be good for you here.”

She ran her hand down his arm, trailing her blood red nails along his skin. “You would be my consort, my lover, my own sweet prince…”

“Sweet nothings whispered through caged doors offer little charm. I would be nothing but your slave, your whore, and the damned.” Jaron spat out.

She slapped him, hard, her rings cutting into his flesh. “Still that sharp tongue. Harkin!”

Almost at once the dark Fae appeared at her side. “Yes, my queen.”

“Take my slave away to the dungeons. Give him ten lashes with the cold iron whips and break all of his fingers… Again.” Mab ordered with a cruel smile thrown in Jaron’s direction. “Then we shall be leaving Havelock. I wish to go to Gair tonight.”

“As you wish, my Queen.” Harkin bowed and made for Jaron at the bed. Jaron snarled and tried to avoid the Fae’s grasp, but Harkin caught a fist full of his hair, and jerked Jaron from the bed. Kicking Jaron in the ribs as hard as he could, Harkin snarled. “Get on your feet, you lazy dog!”

Smiling happily at her slave’s hiss of pain, Mab turned back to her mirror. It was time to return to her Darkwood Copse and teach the Goblin Prince a new lesson in humility.

* * *

Lorimer, Duke of Gair, was by no means a brave Fae. His happiest times were when the Dark Queen chose other hamlets of her kingdom to haunt rather than his home. Yet, he looked for every opportunity to fall into her good graces and appease her. That is when he heard wind of that foolish elf was selling so much nightshade and for so cheap, he knew he must have it for his Queen. Making a quick deal with the elf, he ordered for the cargo to be brought to his keep in Gair and quickly. After a few days of waiting for his gift for his Queen to arrive, he was summoned to her palace in Havelock. The Chieftain of the Guard, informed him that Mab would be coming to Gair to spend some time breaking her favorite toy in the dungeons of Lorimer’s keep. Inside the Duke’s smile grew larger and he made to return to prepare his home. His queen would come and he would have her gift of nightshade! Plans could not go any better!

* * *

After waiting until sunset, to try again, Alyx and Morven approached the gates again. This time they were allowed in, but kept waiting in the small courtyard for some time before being escorted into Lorimer’s Great Hall. The Duke sat in the seat just to the right of the head of the table and rose when they entered. His gnarled fingers stroked at his dark black mustache, nervously. His oily black hair was slicked back from his sharp face.

“Welcome to the great halls of Gair, merchants!” He nearly hissed. “Have you brought my nightshade?”

“It be in the wagon, Lord.” Morven bowed, low.

“Very good, very good…” Lorimer wheezed in excitement. “She shall be very pleased with me then…”

“She, my lord?” Morven quirked one eyebrow. Alyx gave him a puzzled look.

“I believe he refers to me, elf…” In all her unholy anti-grace, Mab Nightshayde strode into the room, slapping a crooked wand against one silk covered thigh. “The nightshade is a gift to his queen.”

Alyx fought the urge to grab her sword. It was Mab, the Dark Queen, and she had Jaron in her evil clutches. This was the first time that Alyx had seen the Queen since the events of the All Hallow’s Masque, but little had changed about the haughty and dire woman. The Queen, showing her vanity, had donned a silken dress that was weaved about her slender body and barely covered the necessities.

“Well, elves… Unload my nightshade.” Mab ordered, haughtily, and lounged upon her throne.

“At once, yer grace.” Morven bowed and the pair headed outside to their wagon. Alyx dragged Morven onto the cobbled path that led along the interior wall of the keep. All along the base of the walls were the small iron barred windows of the dungeons. Alyx dragged him as far from them as she could because the dungeons gave her the creeps.

“What are we going to do now?” Alyx hissed as she shook Morven. “Mab is here! She’ll kill us! We need to get the hell out of here.”

“Easy, mate. Take a breather there.”

Alyx looked at him in shock. “You’re thinking of going through with this aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Why not? She’ll not know ‘til we’re gone. ‘Sides that’d be story for the lads on the ship.”

“You are crazy, Blinken.” Alyx hissed. “I am not going to get killed for _your_ stupidity.”

“She’s a Queen! She’ll not even look in them bags.” Morven argued. “An’ I’ll be makin’ sure them ones with the real nightshade are the only bags they do look at.”

“And if she does?”

“Then we run like hell with the Sluagh upon our heads.”

“What?!”

“Kiddin’!” Morven grinned. “Relax, kid. She won’t check. That’s what she has servants for, right?”

Alyx frowned. “If we get killed, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go an’ make this deal.”

Alyx followed Morven back towards their cart and past the small cell windows. A strange feeling washed over her and she stopped for a moment, shaking her head as if to clear it.

“You okay?” Morven asked.

She nodded. “Yeah… It’s nothing.”

The pair left and from the middle cell on the wall came the faint rattling of chains. A hand with broken fingers appeared and lifted the prisoner up so they could see out with a pair of blue and green mismatched eyes.

Un-audible whispers crossed the lips of the Goblin Prince, before he sunk back into his dark quarters.

* * *

“Here you are my Queen.” Morven held out one bag of nightshade after they had unloaded the cargo. “The finest nightshade in the Underground.”

“I will be the judge of that, elf.” Mab snapped and nodded to Lorimer. “Pay them.”

Lorimer sneered as he dropped the bag of gold into Morven’s palm. “A pleasure doing business…”

“Likewise.” Morven bowed and gave Alyx a nod that they should take their leave.

“Wait!” Lorimer called out as Morven and Alyx were at the doors. He had opened one of the other bags and held out a fist of the ‘nightshade’ with a frown. “This doesn’t look like nightshade, Your Grace.”

The door slammed shut in Alyx’s face, barely skinning her nose. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on her butt. Her fear filled eyes went to Morven, but the pirate Captain had his gaze trained on the angry queen.

“Then what the bloody hell is it?” Mab snapped.

Lorimer began to scratch his hands, feverishly. “Poison Ivy!”

Mab snarled and pointed one long finger at Alyx and Morven. “You try to swindle the Queen of Air and Darkness?”

Morven faked shock and held out his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Poison ivy? I’ve not a clue how that got there, Yer Grace! I swears it! We must have been bewitched in the wood!”

“I’ll bewitch you, scab!” Mab drew a crooked wand from her dress and pointed it at Morven while muttering a dark incantation. He gripped his stomach in pain and doubled over as the magic struck him. As someone who got cursed quite often, Morven knew how to tell the severity of a curse and this one was a doozy. He swallowed hard as he began to transform into a white billy-goat. Alyx watched in horror as Mab cackled, madly. Morven bleated and shook his horned head in frustration. Alyx drew her sword quickly, muttering a protection spell under her breath. Mab cackled as she heard the girl’s whispers and felt the weak magic permeate.

“That spell will not protect you from me, elf.” Mab raised her wand and muttered in Gaelic. Alyx gasped as deep wounds appeared along her arms and blood began to flow freely from each cut. Alyx fell to her knees clasping her hands to the lesions in a vain attempt to try to stem the blood flow.

“That was a blood curse, elf. You will bleed, slowly and painfully, until your veins are dry as the sandiest part of the Dragon Wastes. I will practice my tortures on you before I meddle with the goat.” Mab began to approach Alyx, a curved blade appearing in her free hand. “I shall cut you into strips and feed you to my hounds as you scream.”

Alyx gasped in pain and threw her wounded arms around Morven, closing her eyes tight. Wild magic drew around the pair and in an explosion of stardust, the duo disappeared. Mab’s blade sliced through thin air and she screamed in fury.

You lied to me!” Mab snarled pointing the blade at Lorimer. “That elf was Fae!”

* * *

Alyx opened her eyes and found that, somehow, she had gotten them to the ship, which was docked outside of Hawker’s Mooring. Alyx’s blood had stained Morven’s white fur, but he stared to her with a look his goat eyes that could only be worry. He bleated, madly. Alyx held up a hand, weakly, and cast a small spell over Morven. Suddenly, his voice thundered out instead of bleats.

“Hands on deck! Krollin! Get yer stinkin’ arse up here and bring Quigli!”

The pair stumbled up on the deck and looked at Morven and Alyx with shocked eyes.

“Cap’n?” Quigli asked, his jaw hanging open in shock.

“Aye!” Morven bellowed.

“Yer a goat?”

Morven head butted the dwarf, knocking him over. “I’m cursed, you twit! Now get to helping Aneurin! He’s cursed!”

“He makes a good goat.” Alyx’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed into Krollin’s arms.


	7. To Turn A Dream

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities."  
_\- Janos Arany_

* * *

Alyx awoke to the sound of the steady drip of water. The air around her was dank and felt heavy in her lungs. She groaned as she raised one of her injured arms up to touch her aching head. She could hear someone singing, softly, in a language she barely recognized as Highland Roane. It was then that she realized that her head was resting on someone’s lap. The body beneath her shifted and she could hear the rattle of chains. Her body went rigid and wild thoughts raced through her mind. Was she in a dungeon? Had they been captured? She remembered transporting them to the ship, but-

The singing stopped as clumsy fingers brushed across her hair in a gentle caress and it broke her frightened thoughts. Her cloudy grey eyes snapped open and she found Jaron’s dirty and injured face smiling down on her.

“Dreaming of me again, love?”

“I guess so...” Alyx looked around to find they were indeed in a large dungeon cell and Jaron was chained to the nearest wall. The water she had heard was the steady rain the dripped inside his barred window. “Where are we, Jaron?”

“Hell.” He replied, grimly.

She sat up, gingerly, wincing at the pain in her arms, which she was surprised to find bandaged and cared for. “My arms…”

“You’re hurt.” Concern crossed Jaron’s features and he reached out one hand towards her. Alyx gasped when she saw his broken and twisted fingers. It was no wonder his touch had been so clumsy. Jaron glanced at his ruined hand and drew it back, embarrassed. “We are both hurt…”

Alyx reached for his hand, carefully, and studied the broken digits. “These are bad… Do you want me to set them-“

He shook his head. “Morgan will heal me later. I will be all right.” He gave her a weak smile and grazed her cheek with his one unbroken ring finger. “You have cut off all your hair. Tho’ it suits you…”

“Oh, Jaron. Your eye… Your fingers…” Alyx brushed her fingers across his swollen cheekbone as tears came to her eyes. “What are they doing to you?”

“Testing me.” Jaron replied and his attention snapped towards a noise at the cell door. “Someone’s coming. You must hide!” He leaned forward to brush his lips across hers. “You should dream of me in a happier place next time, love.” Then he ushered her towards the back of the cell and behind a large stone pillar and hissed out his orders. “No matter what you hear or see, stay hidden!”

The door to the dungeon creaked open and Jaron turned his attention to Mab as she entered. She was obviously angered about something, and only Alyx knew it to be the fact that she was just swindled. Alyx could not see the pair, but the torches cast their shadows on the wall across from her. Mab’s shadow raised its arms, pointing the long curved wand in Jaron’s face.

“Give your will to me.” Mab ordered.

“Never.”

The Dark Queen snarled as she spat out a spell in old Gaelic and Jaron began to groan in pain. Alyx clapped one hand over her mouth as she watched his shadow morph into his gyrfalcon form. He screeched in anger and tried to flap his injured wings.

Mab cackled, merrily. “Broken fingers mean broken wings, fool! Perhaps time as a flightless bird will teach you some manners. Come and let me pluck your feathers to make my new dress…”

Alyx squeezed her eyes shut against the tears and willed herself to wake up. The next thing she knew, she was sitting straight up in a bed, a scream dying on her lips. Gentle hands grasped her shoulders and shook her in an attempt to wake her.

“Damn it… Wake up, kid!” Morven growled in the dark. A match flared in the dark and soon a warm glow illuminated his worried face. Alyx gasped in relief and fell into Morven’s arms, clutching at him. She was back aboard the ship and in his private quarters. He hugged her shaking form to himself, tightly, and brushed a hand across her hair. He began to murmur words of comfort.

“Now, now, lass…” Morven assured her. “‘Twas only a dream. Calm down...” 

“It was real… She had broken all his fingers!” Alyx gasped and Morven held her tighter. “I had to hide!”

Morven knew virtually nothing of this girl’s past, but he knew her nightmare was made of all those dark memories coming back to haunt her. “You’re okay now, lass…”

Slowly, Alyx was calming, but she couldn’t get the image of Jaron’s broken fingers out of her head. She looked down to find her arms were still bandaged. “The blood curse…”

“Quigli cured ya… It took a bit o’ time, but he managed.” Morven laid her back in the bed, carefully. “’Course it took even longer for ‘im to get _me_ back to me handsome self again…”

“Well, you _did_ make an attractive goat.” Alyx smiled up at Morven, weakly. “Let’s try to stay out of trouble for awhile… What do you say?”

“Ya need to stop tryin’ to get yerself killed over me.” Morven grinned and brushed back a chunk of her dark hair. “Them’s orders, girlie. Ya know that’s ‘bout two or three times you’ve saved my hide already.”

“Eh, it’s all part of the job, right?”

“An’ I’ve been thinkin’ long and hard ‘bout that, lass.” Morven nodded and tugged at his beard. “I want ya to be me First Mate. Me _formal_ second in command. What do ya say?”

Her eyes widened. “Me?”

“Aye, an’ yer first duty is to help me sail this heap southwards…” Morven gave her a bright smile.

“Morven are you crazy?”

“’Course not.” His smile faded a little bit. “We gotta run south if we-“

“You haven’t had a First Mate in ages and you’re picking me?”

“Why not? Yer a right good sailor, ya know how to tie a decent Highwayman’s Hitch, and ya even make me laugh on occasions.” Morven ticked off each quality with a finger. “Them’s two qualifications more than I required from me last First Mate! Even Krollin an’ Quigli think it’s an ace idea.”

“Well, what the heck.” Alyx shrugged. “How much more trouble can you get me into?”

“Brilliant! First job, we sail south to the Forbidden Islands!”

“The _what_?” Alyx blanched at the name of their destination.

“Steady yer mainbrace, bucko… The place sounds a lot worse than it is… Trust me!”

With that, the Merrow Wind sailed south for the Forbidden Islands, a cluster of many small islands that hosted a haven for pirates and other seafaring folk. The many islands formed a near labyrinth of swamplands that hosted some of the best hideouts in the Underground. After docking the ship in the bustling Harbor Town, Morven called a sudden holiday, left Krollin and Quigli in charge aboard the Merrow Wind, and led Alyx deep into the swamps of the island chain. Morven poled their pirogue through the swamp, following the torches glowing on random trees. Alyx shivered as she heard something slither into the water to her immediate left and hugged her coat closer around her body.

“Are we there yet?” She hissed. “These swamps give me the creeps.”

“Damn near… There it is…” Morven pointed ahead with his pole.

A shanty loomed in the mists ahead, propped up on stilts above the swamp and aglow with the light of a million candles. Poling their boat to the ramshackle dock, Morven tied them off. Each step on the ancient dock creaked under their booted feet as Alyx peered about, nervously. Shortly before the end of the dock, Morven stopped and threw out his arm to stop Alyx from continuing.

“What are y-“ Alyx started.

Charging from the shadows roared a dragon-like alligator, its great jaws snapping. Alyx gasped and fell backwards on her butt as the gator reached the end of its chain and stopped a few feet shy of the docks. It hissed, agitatedly, and flashed it great teeth at them. Morven put his hands on his hips and smirked up at the shanty.

“Who’s that knockin’ on my dock?” a loud voice called from the shanty porch. “We don’t like strangers ‘round these parts…”

“Pallas! It’s me! Call off Dibbles!” Morven called out.

“Well, I'll be twice dipped in the river Styx! If it ain’t Morven Squall!” A Fae woman came into the torchlight. The beautiful woman was dressed plainly, in a simple dress that hung from her shoulders and kept her cool in the muggy swamps. Her long brown hair hung around her face in wild curls and braids and she was barefoot. She rested her hands on her hips and gave him a cocky grin. “What brings ya my ways, Squall?”

“Call off Dibbles and I’ll tell you.” Morven replied, just as cockily as she.

Pallas snorted and snapped her fingers at the alligator. “Go on now, Dibs...”

Reluctantly, the hissing gator disappeared back into the shadows and Morven led Alyx to the porch steps. He held out his arms to Pallas in a hugging gesture. “Miss me, love?”

“’Bout as much as I miss having the wheezing dragon-pox.” She snorted again and peered around him at Alyx. “Who’s the kid?”

“Ah, let me introduce ya to me First Mate, Aneurin of the Genkis. Aneurin meet Pallas Foxglove, Witch of the Forbidden Islands.” Morven made the introductions, swiftly, and with an ever growing smile.

“‘First Mate? You haven’t had a proper first mate in nigh on a century…” Pallas teased him and gave Alyx a wink. “Glory hog, you know.”

"Anuerin here needs a bit o’ trainin’ in the magical arts an’ I figured, since yer the next best thing to havin’ Wyntr le Fey…” Morven gestured between Alyx and Pallas. “What do ya think, Pal?”

“How long would I ‘ave to put up with you?”

“As long as ya can put up with me deadly charm, love.”

Pallas gave Alyx a look-over. “Oh? An’ what does Pallas get outta this deal?”

“We’ll let ya in on our little secret…” Morven teased.

“Oh, for the sake of Rapunzel! I know she’s a woman, Morven. You may be able to fool most people, but ya ain’t gonna get one over on old Pallas.”

Alyx eyes widened and she looked to Morven in a panic. She had never come across anyone who could see past the glamour that the glass slippers produced.

Morven gave her a calming gesture and turned his attention back to Pallas. “Oh, yeah? What makes ya think that?”  
Pallas gave him a smirk and jangled a small pouch at her waist. “The bones told me… Come on inside an’ tell me the story of this girl who walks like a man…”

* * *

“Hey! Wake up!”

Sarah’s eyes snapped open at Wyntr’s command and she found the Alchemist standing over her bed with a stern look on her face. “Wyntr? What time is it?”  
“Early. Get dressed. We’re going to the market in Silvanus. I’m outta horned toads and peppermint.” Wyntr grunted. “’Sides there’s an elf having her baby and she needs me to be midwife for her.”

Sarah sat up and looked Wyntr, quizzically. “You’re a midwife too?”

“’Course I am. Why do you think that I had you reading all those healing tomes last week? Now hurry up or you’ll miss breakfast. Treffun made us honey cakes.”

Wyntr left the room and Sarah looked to Ashe curled up on her floor. “Always an adventure here in Sirrocco Forest…”

After she quickly dressed, the pair headed downstairs for the kitchen where Treffun was grumbling over their breakfasts. Wyntr soon joined them and after eating quickly, she and Sarah made off for Silvanus. Taking the trail that Sarah neglected on her way to Wyntr’s home led them to a small ferry making trips too and fro across the inlet and to the town. The seaside town of Silvanus was a bustling marketplace. Wyntr was well-known there, so many gave the sometimes temperamental witch a wide berth as they made their way through the city, but all gave her acknowledgement as she passed. After a few trips through shortcuts she knew within the town, Wyntr brought them to a small thatched hut with a steady stream of smoke coming from the chimney. A rather nervous looking elf man bade them entrance at the door and led them to small bedroom inside where a very pregnant elf writhed in pain. Wyntr knelt at her side, cooing a few words of comfort before turning back to the man.

“We’ll need hot water and towels… Lots of them. Now.” The man raced off to do her bidding and she turned to her apprentice. “Wash up, little Sarah, an’ help me deliver this baby.”

Hours later, when they finally returned home, Sarah collapsed in a chair by the hearth, every bone in her body aching. Wyntr did the same with a groan.

“Helping those in need is a duty of every reigning monarch, whether it be keeping their country out of unnecessary wars or birthing a child.” Wyntr said, wearily.

“No job to big or small.” Sarah agreed. “Though it was nice of those elves to name their daughter after me.”

“Many elves consider it good luck to name their child after the person who helped deliver it. An’ it’s a trend to name babies after royalty.” Wyntr explained as she shucked off her boots. “The people in Silvanus like you. Expect for them to call upon you quite often.”

Wyntr wasn’t joking. Within two weeks Sarah was called upon to splint ten broken bones, cure six colds, stitch up three men from a bar brawl, and deliver one goat. While helping the injured and ill in Silvanus took up a lot of her time, Sarah still managed to study the many tomes and scrolls that Wyntr produced for her lessons. It was nearly All Hallow’s when Wyntr took her on her first ‘field trip’ in Sirrocco Forest. After a lengthily trip through all three of the fairytale forests, they came to crystalline lake with an island in the center. Sarah’s eye’s widened in wonder as they traveled down the long dock with 12 separate hitches for rowboats. Nearly all were sunken and decaying in their watery tombs, save the last at the end of the dock, which, despite its decrepit appearance, floated quite merrily. As they approached the island in the center, Sarah was amazed to find that it hosted the vine covered ruins of a castle.

“It _is_ just like the 12 Dancing Princesses.” Sarah whispered.

“The very same.” Wyntr replied and focused her odd eyes on Sarah. “Now today’s lesson’s about magic. You are powerful, there’s no denying that, but ya lack control.”

“I’m just not very good at it.” Sarah frowned.

“_Ya lack control_.” Wyntr reiterated as they docked the boat and headed towards the ruins. She hiked up her skits as she stepped along the jagged moss covered stones as they enter what was once the ballroom. “That’s all.”

“I dunno… The most I’ve seen me do is burn down hedge maze. I can’t even do a proper glamour.”

”Oh, hogsnot! You can use your magic to make even these ruins to what they once were!” Wyntr gestured around them wildly, her robes whirling with each sharp move she made. “Your glamour can produce the phantom princes and the dancing princesses and fool even the steadiest of Fae! They would taste the sweet wine and feel it as it flowed past their lips! They would smell their partner’s sweet perfume and feel their loving embrace!”

Sarah looked around at the moss and vine covered ruins in doubt. “That sounds like a fair sized overhaul to me, Wyntr.”

Wyntr whirled back about to shake one finger in Sarah’s face. “For bein’ the Champion of the Labyrinth, ya got little faith in yourself!”

Sarah frowned. “I’ve got plenty of faith in myself!”

“Do ya now? Then prove ol’ Wyntr wrong!” Wyntr gave her a wry smile and moved to sit down next to Ashe. She gave the gryphon a fond pat on the head and gestured with the other hand. “Impress me…”

Sarah gave slight huff and rose to stand in the middle of the ruined ballroom. Bright sunlight streamed down through the holes in the glass pane roof and made a spotlight on Sarah. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and began to envision the ballroom as she had always pictured in the stories. In her minds eye, she saw the entire ballroom renewed in a wash of white marble and shining glass. She could smell roses and lilies from the elaborate arrangements and the music was sweet to her ears. Masked couples danced gracefully in circles around her, alit by the light of a thousand candles. At the dais were twelve golden thrones, arranged by age, where twelve beautiful princesses sat in glittering gowns. When Sarah opened her eyes, it was exactly as she had pictured it and she gasped in wonder.

Her magic had even changed her dress in a flowing one of stunning green with cream lace trailing down her thin arms. Diamonds were embroidered into the gown, making sure each movement she made sparkle. She looked back up at the dais and saw that there was one throne waiting, empty, for her. The other princesses rose to dance, each having a prince approach and ask for her hand. As they began to twirl around her, Sarah felt a gentle hand upon her elbow and when she turned, she found herself staring into familiar mismatched eyes.

“Jareth? What are you-“

He was in a suit matching her green and cream ensemble and wore a jaunty crown at his brow. Instead of speaking, he bowed low to her and began to twirl her around the ballroom. Her feet were barely able to keep as they danced and he dipped her too and fro. She felt the velvet of his gloves against her fingertips and his warm breath as he pressed a kiss to her neck. Sighing in content, she relaxed in his strong arms and breathed in the scent of his sandalwood cologne. Then a piecing shriek cut through her senses and she recognized it as Ashe’s cry.

She remembered.

Thrusting herself back from the phantom Jareth’s arms, she watched the castle fade back to ruins around her. Boy, was she a sucker for those darn ballroom dreams. She frowned at herself. How could she have managed to even fool herself? She turned back to where Wyntr was watching with a critical eye.

“Not bad… Not bad at all. ‘Specially for your first try. Most don’t get that far the first time I bring them here.” Wyntr rose and Ashe bounded to Sarah’s side. “You’ve got better taste than Prince Jaron at any rate… His ballroom had goblins and pixies in the punch bowl and all the women were faceless.”

“You’ve done this before?” Sarah asked, amazed at the world she had created for a brief moment.

“Of course! This is where I bring all who need to learn… It’s good practice for ‘em. You did well today, Sarah. Just remember that when you cast your glamour you are in control.” Wyntr gave her an approving smile. “Feel tired?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, but why was Jareth here?”

“Some Fae share inexplicable bonds, my dear… The pair o’ you got one for sure. Besides, I suspect there’s a bit of the Goblin King that still likes to linger in these parts.” Wyntr replied and motioned for Sarah to follow her from the ruined ballroom. “You see, Jareth was one of the twelve princes that escorted the Twelve Dancing Princess. Of course, he was merely the Goblin Prince back then. King Jareen, may he rest in peace, was still on the throne in those days.”

“How did he get himself caught up in that story?” Sarah asked as they made their way back to the path that would take them back to their boat.

“Well, the princess’s father, angered Oberon, so he cursed the girls to forever dance their nights away with Princes of the Fae, making them a waste to try to marry off for the old King. Oberon called out to his Court for the most powerful of the princes and by then Jareth was known for his excellent glamour. Oh, but he wasn’t the only one. Prince Robin Goodfellow, or Puck as he likes to be called, was there too I think… Prince Nuada of the Elves… Several of them boys. It was a real grand affair. We had balls every night for weeks ‘til that bloody soldier had to muck it all up…“

Sarah laughed. “The longer and longer that I’m here, the more and more amazed I get. All those fairytales are real!”

“Remind me to tell ya the story about Snow White sometime… C’mon. Treffun’s likely to be done with dinner, and that was certainly enough work for one day.”

* * *

The problem with any Fae having an animal form is the fact that the longer they stayed in such form, the more they began to think like the animal. So, with Jaron being trapped in gyrfalcon form for an extended time, he began to think of himself more as a bird than a Fae. His bird self could not understand the cruel women who kept him in a rusted cage, where he barely had room to move, let alone stretch his four foot wingspan. All he could do was stay perched in the center, hugging his tattered and broken wings to his thin body and hoping what was left of his feathers would keep him warm. Each night she plucked more and more, adding to the horribly macabre dress upon the dressmaker’s doll in her private quarters. If and when he was fed, it was merely the scraps after her great Black Eagles and vultures were fed before him.

He had learned not to screech, for it filled the cruel woman with wrath like nothing else. He learned not to preen, because she wanted his feathers all to herself. He learned that it was no use for him to peck upon the rusted bars of his cage, for it only resulted in his wings being broken all over again. His worst lesson had been the time some strange and primal urge provoke him to peck the cruel woman. All around his beak was still bald from the leather muzzle they had confined him in.

Yet, he had a few good lessons as well. He learned that when he was at his most docile, the guard around him became lax and there where brief moments when he could almost taste the sweet winds of freedom. He also learned that the dark-haired witch that came to heal him often brought rats or small fish that has the faint scent of crow upon their flesh. He also learned that once upon a time, he was more than a simple bird of prey. His eyes often would flash with a brightness that few other than the lower goblins understood. He was more than some aviary pet.

He was a Sindhe.

* * *

The burning embers nestled inside the bowl of the wooden pipe let off a faint glow, revealing Alyx in the dark. She sat at a table with her back to the wall of the dark pub, shrouded in shadows and watching the room. Her hat was pulled down low and she taking leisurely puffs from the long and curved pipe in her hand. She focused her gaze across the grimy pub. Morven was there, playing cards with a troll, an elf, and an orc. She watched the table, cautiously, not trusting the men that her Captain played with. One hand rested on the hilt of her sword, under the table as the other drew the pipe from her lips.

They had spent some time at Pallas’s place, with the swamp witch teaching Alyx everything from dream deciphering to bone and rune readings. Yet, within a month of their stay at Pallas’s place, Morven managed to anger the witch enough that she performed a fish curse on the pirate. The curse caused gills to grow on his neck and webbing to appear between his fingers and toes. It took Alyx three days to break the curse and return Morven to his non-aquarian self. Shortly after that, they left Pallas’s swamp home to return to Harbor Town and the ship waiting for them there. Alyx readied the ship to sail while Morven disappeared into town for a few hands of cards before their departure. By the time that she tracked him down to a little pub called The Hook and Sword, it was midnight and the ship had been ready to sail for hours. He insisted that he had to stay because he was on a winning streak, so she settled back, guarding him from the shadows.

Morven’s blue eyes flickered across the table at the elf. The pirate grinned. “Your bet, Elroi.”

The long, blonde haired elf gave a smirk and tossed a bevy of chips into the pot. The troll snorted and then threw down his hand of cards.

“Too pricy for Golorg’s lousy hand.” The troll rose and staggered away towards the bar.

Morven met the bet and added more. The orc followed suite. Elroi let his sharp eyes drift back to the Captain.

“Shall we see who wins the big pot, boys?” Elroi asked. “I’ll go first.”

He laid down his hand of cards so all could see and the orc snorted, throwing his cards upon the table. A winning hand. “I’ve beaten you, elf.”

“And you, pirate?” Elroi asked. “What do you have?”

Morven gave a grin and slapped down his cards. _The_ winning hand. The orc snarled in rage and turned to Morven. “You cheat and lie.”

The pirate captain frowned. “I never cheat at cards Furgle. Never.” 

“Liar!” Furgle hissed.

“Now, now Furgle.” Morven admionished. “Let’s not be a sore loser.” 

The orc moved to lunge. Within an instant, Morven stabbed his short knife through the orc’s hand, pinning the creature to the table. Furgle howled in pain and nearly fell to the floor. Morven shook his head, sadly, and gathered his winnings from the middle of the table, while the orc writhed in pain.

After collecting his spoils, Morven jerked his blade free and smiled at Elroi. “Fancy a drink while we discuss them basilisk eggs you owe me?”

Elroi laughed and followed Morven to Alyx’s table. She gave the pirate a sober look. “Can we set sail now?”

“Right after me an’ me mate Elroi here discuss some business. Be a good kid an’ go get a bit of ale to wet our whistles.” Morven handed off his bag of spoils to her.

She cocked one eyebrow at him. “I thought being promoted to First Mate made it unnecessary for me to continue the work detail of a mere cabin boy.”

“Ya thought wrong. I ‘aven’t replaced ya with ‘nother cabin boy yet. Now get them drinks, savvy?”

Alyx frowned, but went off to do his bidding anyways. By the time she had returned the two men were in deep conversation.

“…An’ speaking of all things scaly… Thanks Lad.” Elroi accepted his drink. “Don’t go near the Dragon Spine or the Wastes. There is a mad dragon again.”

“Bloody hell, not another one…” Morven frowned over his ale at Alyx. “That’ll mean two bad things, kiddo. No more fire grass an’ we canna use the Foxhole to hide out.”

“So far he’s staying outta the Wastes.” Elroi added. “Been stayin’ in the Spine mostly.”

“Which one of the old nutters was it this time?”

“Unwin of the Ashes. Nearly took out half of Taureg last week.” Elroi leaned in a little closer. “But if yer lookin’ for some work, the word from the mainland be that Prince Dymek of Taureg is in _dire_ need of a dragon slayer.”

“Dragon slaying? Ya think I’m mad?”

“Could be worth it just to milk a few of the fringe benefits and then slip out the back gate before...” Elroi shrugged. “It sounded like a good Blinken, Winken, and Nod set-up to me. Thought you and yer new First Mate might be interested…”

“Hmm… Temptin’, but I recently escaped death an’ I donna like toyin’ with them Fates.”

This whole while, Alyx was listening to the conversation, completely engrossed. “How does somebody become a dragon slayer?”  
Elroi and Morven both gave her a weird look.

“Dragon slaying is for the brave and the bold kiddo, not pirates.” Elroi laughed. “’Side’s, I think the last person to slay a dragon around here was Lord Maccrea when he killed Samiel the Calamitous in Darkwood Copse.”

Morven shook his head. “No, no… It was High Prince Meletius vs Cahal the Desolate. That spat was up near Shade’s Coast in the Red Snow Northlands.”

“Are ya sure, because-“

“Hey, I’m serious.” Alyx frowned. “How does somebody become a dragon slayer?”

“Through sheer madness and pain. Ya just get them thoughts outta yer head, bucko. There’ll be no dragon slayin’ for the crew of the Merrow Wind. We just agreed to stay _outta_ trouble, ‘member?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Belay that. We’re not goin’ dragon slayin’. Now, when can I get me basilisk eggs, Elroi?”

Morven merely pretended to ignore Alyx’s questions about the dragon. Once he was back aboard the ship and outta the reach of her ears, he grilled Krollin and Quigli about her curiosity.

“The lass has an unnatural obsession with dragons.” Quigli, snorted. “Always readin’ ‘bout them an’ the such.“

“She does find them quite fascinatin’.” Krollin admitted. “She’s quite interested in getting a dragon’s hide shield someday.”

Quigli gave a guffaw. “I even promised the lass I’d go dragon slayin’ with her when the time comes… Imagine that!”

Morven frowned. “Surely, she’s not serious then? It’s just a phase, right? Girls go through phases, right?”

The two other pirates shrugged their shoulders in unison.

“Dunno ‘bout that… Never been much for figurin’ out how women think. ‘Specially those ones from the Above…” Krollin admitted. “Tho’ I suppose the lass can do anything she puts that pretty little head of hers too.”

* * *

Little did the trio know, Alyx was very, _very_ interested in dragon slaying. Not only had she been reading about it. She was preparing for it. It seemed only her next logical step in this strange world should be to try her hand at slaying a dragon. It’s not that she had some kind of crazy death wish, but she felt compelled that this was what she must go and do next. With Elroi the Gambler’s news about Unwin the Mad in the Wastes, she was only more encouraged to go out dragon hunting. Though she was still recovering from her near-death experience at Mab’s, she felt very confident about taking on the mad creature. So she bided her time aboard the ship, following the daily routine, but all the while planning her trip to Taureg in answer to the Prince’s plea for a dragon slayer.

They had barely hit two ports since their brief holiday in the Forbidden Islands, when Alyx decided that the next mainland stop, she was going to jump ship. She knew there was no way in hell that Morven would let her go on such a trip alone, and though she wished for the company, she did not want to put her fellow shipmates in danger. Her only way was sneaking off ship at the next stop, which happened to be a small fishing town called Firth in the southern Enchanted Forest. Unfortunately, Krollin caught her preparing her gear, the night before they docked in the town.

“An’ what do ya think ya are up to?” Krollin asked, wearily, when he caught her loading her gear.

She spun around guiltily. “Nothing!”

“Ah… An’ I’ll be Cinderella on her way to the ball… What ya got up yer sleeve, lassie?”

“I have another trip to take inland…” Alyx shrugged, nonchalantly. “No worries…”

“Uh-huh… An’ were ya meanin’ on tellin’ the Cap’n ‘bout this anytime soon?”

“No?” Alyx ventured and winced at the disapproving look on Krollin’s face. “Oh, come off it, Krollin. You know how he worries about me an-”

Krollin closed the door to their meager cabin behind himself and crossed his arms over his chest. “Morven pegged it spot on then… You intend on goin’ dragon slayin’!”

She winced again and leaned against her hammock. “Well, when you say it like that-“

“Are ya stark raving daft?!” Krollin grabbed her by the shoulders, his dark eyes filled with worry. “By Davy Jones, that’s a fool’s death! Now, I’ve let Morven talk us into some damn foolish ideas-”

She frowned and shook him free. “I’m not stupid, Krollin. I’ve done my research-“  
“Yer not even fully Fae yet! I know ya got yer secrets lass, but they ain’t worth dying over.” He hissed in return. “If ya was my daughter, I’d tan yer hide.”

“Krollin.” Her face softened. “I can’t take Teutah’s place, but-“

“An’ I donna expect ya to, lass.” Krollin took the girl’s hand in his. “Yer like me own kin… I donna what I’d do if we lost ya. Imagine the wreck Morven would be without ya nowadays…”

She gave a very Quigli-like snort. “The same addle-brained fool he was before. You haven’t known me all that long-“

“You donna realize how you touch people’s lives, Alyx.” It was the use of her real name that gave Alyx pause, and she looked to the steward, carefully. His face was filled with concern. “If there ever was a white mark, ya’d be it. Ya remind us that there is some light in the darkness.”

Shocking the elf, she wrapped her arms around him and enveloped him in a tight hug. He gripped her back tightly, and muttered soft words of comfort into her hair.

“Krollin… I know I’ve kept a lot of secrets from you guys an-“

“They’re yer own… We’re pirates, remember? We donna expect to know all the stories.”

Alyx rested her head against his chest. “Then you must understand why I have to do this?”

Krollin hugged her tighter and nodded, slowly, as he released her. “Sometimes there are things in life we _must_ do regardless of whether we want to or not…”

Alyx gave a small laugh. “A very wise friend once told me the same thing.”

“Then he obviously knew what he was talking about.” Krollin gave her another tight squeeze. “I’ll let ya go… But I’ll not agree.”

Alyx laughed, softly. “I’d like to see you stop me.”

* * *

It was Samhain, All Hallow’s Eve and the field near Silvanus was alight with the flames of the twin bonfires celebrating the passage into fall. Sarah and Ashe watched in wonder as the townsfolk of Silvanus drove their livestock between the two fires, purifying the animals and people for the coming season. All around her masked children danced merrily with lanterns made of turnips and begged treats from their neighbors. Sarah and her gryphon had become a welcomed and common sight in Silvanus and the townspeople had been more than happy to have them at their celebration. Sarah was still in wonder at the abundance of food and drink that the kindly folk pressed upon her and her pet during the festivities and it seemed that rarely a moment passed when she wasn’t urged to dance along to the happy music.

At the end of the very long and fun evening, she felt honored when she was given a tiny turnip lantern, bearing a flame born of the twin bonfires. All evening she had watched the others extinguish their home flames and relit them with the new fire, ushering in the new season. Studying the carved turnip as she walked home through the diamond forests, she hummed the happy songs she had heard all night.

“Good time, huh, Ashe?” Sarah scratched his neck fondly as they walked. “I think those apple tarts were the best thing I’ve ever ate… That Bree sure knows how to cook.”

Ashe mewled his agreement.

“And that taffy that Lowleaf made? Ugh! I’d kill to have candy making skills like him…”

By this time they had neared the scarecrow that directed them home to Wyntr’s. Sarah gave his ever-lit face a jaunty wave, which it returned merrily. When they crossed over the bridge, Sarah was unsurprised to find Wyntr waiting like a sad little troll.

“’Bout time. I’ve had my fires out all night waiting on you.” Wyntr scolded and eyed the turnip lantern. “They like ya then? I see they gave ya a bit o’ the bonfire flame.”

“And I almost got Bree to tell me her secret ingredient to those tarts you like so much.” Sarah bragged as she handed the lantern over.

Wyntr cocked one eyebrow. “Really? Good work. Come on then.”

With a snap of her fingers, Wyntr transported them to her laboratory. Upon their arrival to the dark room, Sarah heard a loud thud and Treffun’s muffled curse.

“Is that you, Wyntr?” He grumbled. “I’ve been stumbling around here in the dark for hours.”  
“Well, ya should have woken up when I told ya to…” Wyntr returned, gruffly, leaning down to relight the magical hearth from the turnip. Quickly, the flame spread through out the hearths and torches of the keep to illuminate the rooms. She rubbed her hands together. “Ah… That’s better. It may not be an Italian Salamander, but it’ll do!”

She crossed to her work bench where there were a number of half assembled tick-tock creatures and bubbling vials. Plucking a rather hefty tome from one end of the table, she lugged it to Sarah.

“Here. Try this for some light reading, lovey.”

Sarah frowned as she studied the heavy book the witch dumped in her lap. “What’s this?”

“It’s a book on fauns. I want you to be able to tell if it’s possible to house train them.”

Treffun snorted from his chair by the fire and Sarah cast Wyntr a sour look. “Not a sense of humor between the pair of ya then? Bah! It’s a book on old Gaelic. Next week I’m gonna teach ya some nasty curses and hexes that’ll come in handy when you are Queen. Catch is they are all in old Gaelic, so study up that ways your spells don’t backfire on ya.“ Wyntr ordered and went to work on one of her many tick-tock creatures. “There’s one in particular that makes snakes and toads fall from their lips when they speak.”

“Gross, _but_ intriguing.” Sarah admitted, flipping through the tome. “There have been plenty of times I could have used that one on Jareth…”

Wyntr grunted as she worked to unscrew the shell on the clockwork tortoise before her. “Wouldn’t be the first time, I’m sure. Jareth is really good at riling tempers.”

Sarah chuckled and hugged the tome to her chest. “What do you think he’s up to tonight, Wyntr?”

“Oh, something I’m sure. The veil betwixt the worlds are thin tonight. He could be Above… Or Under… Or both. Wanna find out?” Wyntr cocked one eyebrow, playfully. “We could scry on him. Give ’im a bit o’ his own medicine for once?”

“You can do that?” Sarah was intrigued.

“I’m Wyntr le Fey… I can do anything.” Wyntr smirked and began to rummage through a nearby cupboard. “’Sides this’ll be a good lesson for ya. Now most of Jareth’s family uses the crystals for all their scrying needs, but I’ve found that sometimes the older ways are the best ways.”

Finally finding the tiny vial that she was looking for, she crossed under the orrery and to a tapestry covering the wall. She tugged the tapestry down with flourish, revealing a very large and ornate mirror. Dipping her index finger into the golden oil inside the vial, she began to draw runes upon the glass. After she finished each ruin, the word began to glow. After reaching the end of her spell, Wyntr stepped back to admire her handiwork and raised her arms.

_“Mirror, mirror made of the finest sands_

_ Show me more than across the lands…”_

Sarah gasped in fright as the mirror began to crack, revealing a new surface beneath it and a different scene than their reflections. It showed Jareth in his cavern-like tower, standing in front of one of the fire cauldron’s that warmed his room. He was dressed plainly, and staring into the flickering flames. His arms were crossed over his chest and he seemed lost in thought. Suddenly, his gaze snapped up to stare at them through the mirror. He frowned and waved one hand, causing the mirror to shatter into a million pieces on the floor. Wyntr gave a snort and snapped her fingers, causing the mirror to return to its original state.

“Did he see us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, but he knew I was a watchin’. He seems in a rather odd mood this All Hallow’s…”

“Let me try!”

“Hmph… Yer a ways off from learning that powerful of magic, but that tome will help you. Get to reading.”

* * *

When he found life displeasing, which was quite often these days, Jareth would retreat to the peaceful tranquility that the ruins of the Forest Court of Allerleirauh offered. In his younger days, before its decline, the Forest Court had offered all the frivolities and play that made any youngster’s life complete in the Underground. He would stroll for hours with Queen Allerleirauh VIII in her overflowing gardens of sweet jasmine and orchid blossoms. He would play hide and seek with the gnomes, and tag with the fairies and sprites and all the while, the already elderly queen would laugh and shout out her encouragement. So, after he had felt Wyntr’s eyes scrying upon him, he flew to Allerleirauh.

These days very little grew right in the ruins of the Forest Court. There was no magical queen to act as caregiver so the jasmine and orchids grew wild, choking one another out and leaving naught but wild thorn brushes and dead plants in their wake. Still the ruins held a mystical charm that hosted the oddest of the fairy folk. Even though the fountains and springs refused to run, despite his best efforts, Jareth still found comfort roaming the old halls. It saddened him to know that Queen Allie wasn’t there for him to ask advice from anymore. Jareth came to a stop beside the dry fountain in the center of the gardens and sat down, heavily. Tiny sprites and fairies stopped their normal play and came to swing amongst the fine tendrils of his hair and dance at his boots.

“I see your lot has finally forgiven me?” He gave the group a small smile and they chattered, excitedly. “You know I’ve felt like I’ve done enough penance for my sin…”

He held out one finger and a tiny, but bright, sprite landed there. She danced upon his gloved hand, elegantly and hugged his thumb tightly.

“Tell me, little one… Do you ever see the ghost of my brother dancing here?”

The tiny sprite giggled and shot from his hands like a flash, illuminating a path for him to follow. Intrigued, Jareth followed the tiny sprite through the overgrown vines. He had learned long ago that most sprites were of the helpful sort, and tended to know a bit more about the world than most. The tiny creature shot through the thorns and brush like it was nothing, while Jareth lumbered through, tearing up both his clothes and skin. A rather sharp thorn scratched his cheek and he cursed, slapping one gloved hand against the bloody wound. The sprite chattered and he followed the sound with his eyes. Just ahead there was a secluded glen that he barely recognized from his younger years.

The glen, like all of the ruins, was overgrown with the vines, yet this secluded place seemed much more alive than the rest. At the center was the stump of an old and ancient tree, covered in moss, and upon it was a small, dark-headed boy. He was garbed in simple forest wear and juggling three brightly colored balls. Jareth’s eyes widened and he prepared to retreat, figuring he had stumbled upon a faun at play, but he noticed that the boy was Fae. The child’s merry laugh filled the hair as the winds began to blow jasmine petals about like a soft summer rain. Sprites and fairies danced about the child in the air, excited by his play. Jareth stepped forward, wishing to know more of this strange child, when his boot landed on a twig. Its snap ricocheted through the glen like gunfire. Immediately, all three balls dropped from the child’s hands and he turned toward Jareth questioningly. The Goblin King nearly choked when the familiar mismatched eyes of blue and green landed on him and the child smiled. It was a doppelganger of his brother’s younger self toying in this meadow.

“Jaron?” Jareth croaked, unbelieving his own eyes. The child giggled and raised one shushing finger to his lips.

_You’ll not catch me!_

With those ghost words echoing in his ears, the child took off through the brush. Jareth scrambled to follow, but barely made it to the stump before the doppelganger disappeared into the brush. The Goblin King cursed and sat down on the stump, hard, confused by this illusion.

“I see him dancing here often.”

Jareth snapped to attention at the sound of a new voice, and was shocked to find Oberon standing at his side. “Grandfather.”

“I believe this is where his magic came when it was stripped it of him. It seems only right that it would take on the form of a carefree child…” Oberon’s voice was forlorn and wistful. “… And come back to the place where he was born.”

“His magic is running free? Here?”

“Not free. Jaron’s wild magic has been and will always be tied to the Forest Court. It will not venture far without him.” Oberon turned his eyes to his grandson. “It is safest here. Though Queen Allie is long dead and gone, her protection over the Forest Court thrives.”

“How long have you known?” Jareth asked.

“Wild magic always returns to where it was born.” Oberon sat next to his grandson, heavily. “There is rarely a day that does not pass that I do not come here to try and catch a glimpse of the ghost boy frolicking. Somehow it comforts me when I see him.”

“It is then that you know Jaron is still alive.” Jareth supplied. “Morgan and I believe he can travel in his dreams… Even without his magic. Jaron always had more tricks up his sleeve than a gambling elf from Goodfellow Glen.”

“That’s the truth…” Oberon admitted, gruffly. “I’ve seen the girl walk here with him as well, though I doubt she remembers any of it. The few times I have seen her, she is little more than a sleepwalking shade at his side.”

“They share a powerful connection…”

“Not unlike you and Lady Sarah…” Oberon cast him a glance. “Not all connections consist of the sharing of dreams, Jareth. Your Sarah broke your control over her dreams when she ran your Labyrinth… Have you forgotten the peach dream?”

Jareth nodded, grimly. “Jaron warned me that there would be consequences should I fail to dissuade her with the ballroom. I was far too confident to listen to his advice.”

Oberon waved one hand. “Yes, you may have broken that connection, but betwixt you and Sarah there is much more. Your Labyrinth has already accepted her as Queen and Champion, you have given your heart to her… For the sake of Danu, your goblins would rather make her smile than take any child for you. You are far luckier than you think, lad.”

“Sometimes it does not feel so… Especially when my _Queen_ is miles away and holidaying with a crazy witch.”

Oberon chuckled. “You should have been me courtin’ your Grandmother then. At least you didn’t have an angry future father-in-law to deal with.”

“You have much faith that she will come home.” Jareth replied, sourly.

“Let her learn to be a Queen, my boy. There is few better than the le Fey’s to teach her that. Now come… We’ll let Jaron have his glen and dreams again… We must discuss this dragon plaguing young Dymek of Taureg.”

* * *

When the boat docked in Firth and she finished ordering the crew to unloading the ship, Alyx slipped below for her pack. Hiding it near the gangplank, she did another double check of her duties aboard the ship, and thanked her lucky stars that Krollin agreed to fill in during her absence. With a little luck and stealth, Morven wouldn’t notice she was gone until they were far from this port.

“An’ what do ya think yer up to? Skulkin’ about like a wee pickpocket and such?” Morven voice boomed in her ear and she cringed over her pack.

She was busted.

Turning with a bright smile, she retorted. “I was gonna run ashore an’ pick up-“

“Belay that!” Morven ordered. “I need ya to help me sell that wild spice and swamp weeds. Ya are my First Mate, ya know.”  
“I’m feeling that is position isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She frowned and cocked one eye at him. “Besides, they’ve been pretty vague with me on exactly what happened to your last First Mate.”

He gave her a dismissive shrug. “That lout couldn’t handle the job. You, on the other hand… Yer _made_ to be a First Mate.”

Alyx took a deep breath and she knew she had to tell him. “Morven, I have some business inland and-“

“Ya after that fucking dragon?” Morven erupted, angrily, tired of the games.

“So what if I am?”  
“Good Gods of the Seas… Are all women as stupid as you? Mad dragons equal death! Everyone knows that!” Morven spat out, exasperated with her stubbornness on the subject.

“I’m not afraid!”

“That’s what all dragon slayers say right before they’re either fried to a crisp or eaten alive!”

She frowned. “I’m not stupid. I know what I’m getting into.”

“I dinna say ya were _just_ stupid. I think yer downright insane!”

“Morven, I have to do thi-“

“An’ ya tell _me_ that_ I_ come up with the idiotic ideas?!” Morven ranted.

Alyx snarled, fed up with him. “I’m going and there is nothing you can do to stop me!”

“Fine! Go and get yourself bloody killed!” Morven yelled. “Go an’ don’t come back, you idiotic little tart!”

Alyx squared her jaw and fought the stinging tears that came to her eyes. “Fine, I will!”

She turned heel, grabbing her heavy pack as she did so. She slung it on her back and strode towards the gangplank. Krollin stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Don’t go, lass...” His eyes pleaded. “Not like this.”

“Let me pass, Krollin.” She ordered, avoiding looking at him. ”I have made up my mind and so has he.”

She brushed past him and went down the gangplank to the bustling port of Firth. She stopped for a moment, willing her knees not to quake. She had never left the ship without knowing that she would return. Then she squared her shoulders, ready to face the path before her. At that moment she heard a familiar snort at her right. When she turned, she saw Quigli at her side, a pack upon his back, and his pipe clenched between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” Alyx asked.

“I’ve never been dragon slayin’ before.” He responded, taking a puff from his pipe and adjusting his pack. “I think I remember promisin’ ya I’d go… ‘Sides, you’ll probably need all the help ya can get.”

“Quigli-“

“I figure that you and Morven get to go on all the adventures… It’s ‘bout time Quigli had himself one, by Danu!”

Alyx gave him a warm smile, relieved that she had one friend at her side for this journey. “What of the ship?”

“What of it?” Quigli snorted. “It’s _his_ bloody ship, after all!”

With that, the dwarf strode off into the crowd and Alyx watched him, awestruck.

He tossed back over his shoulder. “Comin’, kid?”

She gave a laugh and raced to catch up with him. From behind at the ship, Morven watched them disappear into the crowded port, his eyes worried. 

* * *

Alyx and Quigli procured a pair of horses in the marketplace and rode hard through the Enchanted Forest, hoping to make time on reaching Taureg. After nearly two days of hard riding, they camped on the edge of the Rune River, someway north of Honah Lee. Nearly sick to death of fish and any other animal from the water, Quigli quickly caught them a pair of rabbits for a nice stew. While it was simmering away, Alyx began to unpack her bedroll and go through the supplies she got before leaving Firth.

“Quite the little arsenal ya ‘ave here.” Quigli studied the small armory of weapons Alyx had brought and was cleaning beside the campfire. He hefted one of the twin pair of silver-smithed dwarf broad-axes and gave it an experimental swing. “_Very_ nice. Where did ya nick these?”

“Pallas. She said it was made by dwarfish smiths.” Alyx replied as she sharpened her sword.

“Good craftsmanship.” Quigli observed and ran the pad of his thumb down the blade. He hissed as it slit his skin like butter and stuck his wounded thumb in his mouth.

Alyx smirked as she sheathed the sword. “Enchanted as well. They never need sharpening.”

She rose and took the axe in her hands and gave it a hard swing. It whistled as it cut through the air.

“Ahhh… They are the Twin Blades then… The Whistler and the Piper.” Quigli’s eyes widened. “Them are _old_ blades, lassie. Forged in the silver mines of Nidavellir as a coronation gift to the Dwarf Queen Harelda the Fierce near a half a millennia ago. They’ve tasted the blood of nations.”

“Dunno ‘bout all that. They were covered in rust when I got them. Took me nearly a week to clean them up…” Alyx shrugged and strapped them to her pack. “Pallas told me they would help.”

Quigli snorted. “Glass slippers, the Twin Blades... Next thing ya know someone’ll be givin’ ya Cherlindrea’s Wand!”

Alyx laughed. “And I’d accept if I thought it might help my cause.”

Quigli’s face grew serious. “Slayin’ dragons is serious business, lass. Are you sure yer up to it?”

“I have to be.” Alyx replied, bluntly, as she began to pack the weapons back in her pack. “That soup done yet?”  
Quigli snorted. “Don’t you go changing the subject on me, lassie. I’m not as easily distracted as Squall. Now I know ya ‘ave faced deadly trolls, treacherous seas, and evil queens… But dragons’ll be a whole ‘nother ball o’ wax… Are ya sure ‘bout this?”

Alyx shrugged. “Honestly, no… My head is telling me to run for the hills, but my heart tells me that I need to do this.”

“Lass, maybe there is-“ 

“Can I tell you a secret Quigli?” Alyx asked, softly.

“’Course ya can…” Quigli replied. “… But now ain’t no-“

“I’m her… The Girl Who Wished Herself Away… I just thought someone should know. Just in case.” Alyx blurted out, and Quigli nearly dropped his pipe in surprise. She looked all about, afraid that someone was going to burst out of the forest for her at any moment.

Quigli cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. “Well, ah… We always kinda figured as much, lass… Ya know… With ya being part mortal an’ all…”

“I just want someone to know.” Alyx repeated, her wistful gaze stuck upon the fire. “I get tired of the lies sometimes.”

“Well, if it makes ya feel any better… It don’t matter a lick to me who ya are. I’ll call ya a friend any day.” Quigli replied, his voice nearly choked. He gave a great snort and shook his head. “Now, enough of that! Get that book out and remind me why I donna like dragons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote at beginning is by Janos Arany


	8. The Makings of a Hero

Taureg was a mighty city built in the illustrious Fire Pass of the Dragon Spine Mountains. The city itself was nestled in a sharp corner of the wide mountain pass and built into the mountainside’s many caverns. It provided only two ways of approaching, and both were from the wide plains of the sandy Fire Pass. Prince Dymek ruled over the vast cavern city and it’s forever yielding gold mines. All the city folk there considered the Seelie Courtier a very just and fair ruler. He had been on the throne for the better part of three centuries and he was well loved by his people. The Prince protected his city, devotedly, like his father, Prince Rheingold the Righteous, before him. Dymek watched and knew all that affected his dear city of gold and sand. Though, no seer could tell him of the approach of riders from the north and their plans for his battle against the mad dragon.

A fierce sandstorm chased the pair of riders, much like a lion with its prey, through the northern part of the Fire Pass and towards Taureg. Their hearts lifted when they saw the looming golden city in the distance, so they spurred their horses onward with earnest. It had been many days since they had left the leafy green of the Enchanted Wood and entered the lands of rock and sand. The walled city was preparing for the coming storm and the gates were closing as they approached. Thanks to the horrid weather, it took little persuasion for the gatekeeper to grant them entrance to the city at such a late hour. As the first sandy walls of the storm met them, the pair entered the city. Sand settled all around them as the massive gates slammed shut in their wake.

As she reigned in her still dancing horse, Alyx pulled down the muffler that kept the sharp sand from her face and lungs. The almost happy girl gave Quigli a rare smile and his breath almost caught in his throat at the sight of her. She was un-_glamoured_ and _real_. What the adventurer she was! The slippers had done well for her as of late. They clothed her in a long, sleeveless leather duster over a patched and long sleeved shirt beneath it. Both were swatches of browns and grays that blended in with the sands and mountains around her. Loose-fitting trousers encased her legs and were tucked into dark boots. Her hair was still short in accordance to her guise, but in that rare moment, he saw her for the beautiful lady she was to become.

“Oy, I told ya we’d make it.” Alyx quipped, as she checked to make sure she lost neither the Whistler nor the Piper from their sheaths on her saddle. She tossed him a teasing smile. “Hand over that five quid, mate.”

“We _barely_ made it.” Quigli snorted from the back of his pony as he took off his left boot and poured out the sand that filled it. “I told ya them sandstorms is quick an’ fierce.”

“Oh, where’s your sense of adventure?” Alyx smirked and turned her attention to the gatekeeper peering down at them from above. “Oy, matey. Which way to the castle?”

“Straight on in.” The Fae replied tossing out one arm and studied the pair. “What business do you have with our Lord and Sovereign, Prince Dymek?

“I be a dragon slayer an’ I ‘eard yer Lordship was in need need o’ one.” Alyx replied, tilting her voice fit her pirate slang. That was a little trick Morven had taught her. She turned her horse towards the direction of the castle and pulled short when she saw the small battalion of soldiers before her, blocking their path. She frowned, her good mood broken. “Bollocks…”

“No one sees the Prince without his consent, elf.” The battalion leader sneered, aiming his spear at her. “Now take your _pet_ dwarf and go find a room for the night. We’ll expect you both to have vacated Taureg come dawn.”

Alyx’s frown grew and her mood grew distempered. “Are ya always so rude to the visitors to yer fair city?” 

“These are tough times, elf! Not one can be trusted these days. Best the pair of you move on as quick as possible. The Prince will not be seeing just any _vagabonds_ that outrace a sandstorm into his city.” He pointed an arm up the nearest southern street. “There’s an inn called the Wineskin and the Sword just up that ways. Surely, they’ll take care of the likes of you two…”

“The likes o-“ Alyx started, her temper fully riled, but Quigli stopped her with a grunt.

“Ah, c’mon, kid… Ain’t worth the fight.” Quigli snorted and turned in the direction of the inn. He grumbled under his breath. “Pet dwarf my achin’ arse…”

Alyx gave the battalion commander her foulest look and turned her horse to follow Quigli. “You know, I could have taken them.”

“Oh, yeah? An’ the legions that’ll come to replace ‘em an’ the legions after that?” Quigli snorted and spurred his pony onwards. “Yer decent with a blade, kiddo, but ya got big dreams. Let’s just get a pint an’ think this wretched plan through, eh?”

“Screw that.” Alyx swung down from her horse and tossed the reins to Quigli. Unloading her pack onto her own back, she then wrapped her longbow around herself. “I’m going and getting us that job. We didn’t spend three days in a bloody desert for nothing!”

“Now, kid, donna go pissin’ off the locals.” Quigli warned, gruffly. “Come on now an’ we’ll have a few pints an’ come mornin’ we’ll-“

“Don’t worry. Just wait for me in the town square… Near the castle gates.” Alyx replied as she tugged her muffler over her face and slipped off into the darkness.

Quigli groaned in frustration and began to, slowly, plod towards the town square, wishing for a tall mug of mead. Meanwhile, Alyx slipped through the back alleys, dodging soldiers, until she found Prince Dymek’s castle. She peered up the massive wall to the palace and sighed. Digging her fingers into the creases between the stones of the castle wall, Alyx began her climb. It was slow and agonizing, but she gained steady progress, until she made it about halfway up. That was when she heard approaching voices from below. She cursed, inwardly, and froze in fear, clinging to the stone like a frightened garden gnome.

“Come on! They’ll not notice us gone if we hurry.” One soldier coerced another. “We’ve got time for a few hits of this fine fire grass.”

“Hurry up an’ light it then.” The other grumbled. “These quiet nights give me the willies! It was quiet like this the last time that beast attacked.”

The pair came to a stop right below her and Alyx cursed, again, digging into the wall. Fumbling with the matches, they managed to light the tiny cigarette and each breathed, deeply. The smoke wafted up in her direction and she wished for a drag to quell her quaking nerves.

“So, ya hear what rumors them lads in Battalion 16 are spreading? Some elf’s here in town an’ thinks he can slay that dragon!” The first laughed.   
“Yer joking!”

“Oh, yeah, an’ he said the elf was barely taller than the dwarf he traveled with. Can you imagine?”

“He’ll end up in the same spot as those others that went lookin’ for that monster.” The second soldier confirmed with a firm head nod as he took his drag. “Dead an’ burnt to ash… Ain’t no one in their right of minds that wants to go up against a wyvern.”

Alyx sighed under her breath and tightened her grip with her aching fingers. ”Don’t remind me…”

About that time the piercing shriek of a dragon echoed over the mountains, nearly causing her to fall down on top of the two soldiers below her. Both soldiers scrambled in fright and gave each other fearful looks.

“Great Danu’s Shadow that’s him isn’t it?!” One moaned, pitifully.

“Relax, ya nervous Nellie… He’s a right long ways from here by the sound of that lil’ bit o’ noise, but let’s get back to our posts … Him screeching like that is bound to make people nervous.” The second snubbed the joint against his boot heel.

The two lumbered on about their business and Alyx breathed a great sigh of relief. Drawing the last of her strength, she began to climb again, glad that there wasn’t a dragon coming down on her head at that moment. Making short work of the rest of the wall, she was soon sneaking down the torch lit corridors of the castle. Believe it or not, she wasn’t entirely sure of her plan. From the mere actions of the gatekeeper and the first battalion of soldiers, she wagered that the Prince wasn’t just accepting any offer to solve his reptile problem. Of course, breaking into Dymek’s own castle, that was bound to impress the Prince, but it also gave her the option of spending the rest of her days in his dungeon… Or banished if someone else looked close enough at her. Of course, she knew she had no option. She had to do this if she ever wanted to be able to save Jaron. Slaying a dragon should be easy compared to rescuing him… Right?

Alyx neared a set of intricate double doors that hosted the noise of the arguing of men and a bright light behind it. She smirked. Ten to one said that she had found the Prince of Taureg. Placing one small hand upon the door, she _almost_ froze, fearful of her brashness. Her deep breath nearly caught in her lungs. _It would be what Jaron would do in her stead._ She moved to open the doors and stopped at the feeling of a hand tugging at her left pant leg.

Looking down, she found a small and bearded gnome, dressed in red. He was staring up at her with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

“Uh… I’m the new dragon slayer?” Alyx lied, hopeful the creature would buy her rouse.

He frowned. “No! No, you’re not! No one gets in to see Prince Dymek without his consent. He is in a meeting with his generals and is _not_ to be disturbed!”

“Well… What if it be a bit o’ an emergency?” Alyx asked, hopefully.

“Well, uh…” He tugged at his beard, slightly confused. “I suppose that’s a different story.”

“Then it be a bit o’ an emergency.” Alyx turned, quickly, and kicked open the doors to the dining hall. The great doors clanged open with a resounding bang. The various men gathered at the long table all stared at her in shock as she strode into the room. Many even stood to reach for their own weapons at her unannounced entrance.

“Oh, don’t stand on my account, gentlemen.” Alyx smirked under her muffler and raised her hands in a peaceful gesture.

Instantly, a pair of armed guards were at her sides and were nearly poking her in her nose with their spears. The gnome from the door skirted around her. He stumbled over his own feet, until he reached the head of the table where sat his Lord and ruler, Prince Dymek of Taureg. The prince was a tall Fae with long black hair that had been plaited down his back under his golden crown and it brushed the floor as he rose at the sudden interruption of his dinner. His battle-worn face was close shaven and his brown eyes were dark and harsh as he studied the intruder.

“Sire, I could not stop the elf! I could not stop him!” The gnome rambled to the Prince and bowed so low that his conical hat nearly touched the floor. “Please forgive me, Prince Dymek! He would not listen to me!”

“It seems then that he could not be stopped, Togell. Back to your station, if you please.” Dymek studied the person who intruded on his home. He motioned for his guards to stand at rest. “Who are you, stranger?”

Alyx brightened and gave her most flamboyant bow, a smooth trick she learned from Morven that was full of flailing wrists and waving limbs. “I be called Aleydis, sire.”

“How did you get past my guards at the front gate?” Dymek asked, curiously.

“It took much skill an’ grace, Your Highness.” Alyx chuckled. “’Specially with me pack and axes to weigh me down as I scaled yer walls.”

“Breaking into my castle is a crime punishable by death, elf. ‘Tis no laughing matter.” Dymek frowned, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Me most profound apologies, sir, but I’d not ‘ave dared to break in if yer guards had not held such deaf ears to me words at the front gate.” Alyx bowed again, holding back on the extravagance. She raised her cloudy eyes to meet his dark ones.

“And what words were those?”

“Oh, I’ve ‘eard whispers, me Lord.” Alyx stepped closer to the end of the table perusing the buffet set before the men. She snapped her gaze back to Dymek. “Rumors an’ whispers…”

“Elf, you are testing my patien-“

Alyx cut in quickly, her eyes bright as she selected a handful of grapes from the table. “I ‘eard whispers that ya be in _dire need_ of a dragon slayer, me Lord.”

“Dire need?” Dymek asked, amused by this newcomer who was selecting choice fruits from the tray before him.

“_Dire need_.” Alyx agreed with a solemn nod and pocketed an exceptionally red apple. She gave him a bright smile and held out her arms. “An’ it’s yer lucky day, me Lord.”

“Oh?” Dymek cocked one eyebrow. “And pray tell why is that?”

“Why, ‘cause I’ve come to apply for the job, o’ course.” Alyx put her hands on her hips. “An’ I’m runnin’ a special on the slayin’ of legendary beasts this week, sire.” She gave the general next to her a joking whisper. “Last week me special was on light mercenary work an’ curse fulfillment. Ya caught me at the best time.”

“You? An mere elf to slay a mad dragon?” Dymek chuckled and strode towards her. She back away from the table, keeping her eyes on him. “It is true that I seek a dragon slayer, but you, _little sir_, are _no_ dragon slayer.”

“No… Not yet.” Alyx replied, coolly, as the prince circled her.

“Not yet?” Dymek barked out a laugh as the men in the room began to chuckle with him. “If the great army of Taureg is no match for the mad wyvern then what is it that you think that you shall do?”

“I’ll be slayin’ it, Prince Dymek.” Alyx leaned against her long bow and shrugged, nonchalantly. “If yer price be right.”

“You do not look like a dragon slayer.” Dymek studied her and snorted in distain. “You are small… Even for an elf.”

“Looks can be deceivin’, sir. There be no truer tales than that I’ve been underestimated before an’ me name ain’t known far and wide, but…” She paused and added for emphasis. “We Genki be a tiny, but _fierce_ people.”

“Ah, a warrior elf then? I pray to the gods and they send me the smallest specimen of the warring people of The Genkis? They may has well sent me a woman rather than a child!” Dymek smirked and all his generals roared with laughter. He glared back at Alyx. “And why is your face covered so, elf? I trust no man whose face I can not see.”

Alyx glared at him, becoming slightly perturbed with his arrogance. She had forgotten what dealing with royals could be like. “I be covered to hide the scars of a long ago battle.”

“Oh? And how long ago? I doubt you have even seen a hundred summers.” Dymek scoffed.

Alyx snapped. “An’ ya be wastin’ me valuable time with all these asinine questions. Do ya seek a dragon slayer or not?”

“What makes you think that you would be able to do what my entire army has tried and failed? For six long months we have hunted the beast.” Dymek moved away from her and around the table filled with his men. “My General, Tiege Farsteel, has lost over a hundred men in battles against Unwin with naught to show for it.”

“Aye!” The General Tiege, a burly dwarf, nodded his agreement and drank deeply from his ale. He used his great red beard to dab at the brew that slipped past his lips. “I’ve lost many a good man to that scaly wretch! He is now called Unwin the Mad for good reason! Even other dragons refuse to fly the wild skies for fear of him. The beast is as large as a barn, with a wingspan that can shade an army of a hundred men from the midday sun. His scales are as hard as diamonds and his breath as hot as the fires of the mountain mines in Nidavellir. With one breath, he can burn a legion of my men to cinders!”

“One breath, ya say?” Alyx replied, slightly in awe. “Hard as diamonds?”

“You waste your time and mine here, elf. You are no dragon slayer. You are only a mere boy on a quest for adventure and I’ll send no lad to his death. Go home to your mother.” Dymek ordered and returned to his chair. “And tell her that I order her, as Prince of Taureg, to take a switch to your hide for interrupting my supper.”

Alyx’s eyes glinted with anger. “An’ I’ll be assurin’ ya that I be no lad in search of adventure an’ there be not one man in here that could take a switch to me if he tried!”

Tiege rose from his chair and bellowed. “I’ll take you across my knee, boy!”

Alyx drew an arrow from her quiver like lightning, letting it fly towards the dwarf. Using her longbow as a staff, she spun to her left to crack the oncoming guard upon his head. She dodged the next at her right, and brought her bow down upon his back, leveling him to the ground. Resting again against her bow, calmly, she looked back up to the table at the stunned men staring back at her. Her arrow had pierced the dwarf’s helmet, pinning it to the back of his chair. Tiege’s eyes were wide for he had felt it graze his crown when she let it fly.

“_I am no boy, dwarf_.” She stated, clear and calm.

Tiege looked to Dymek and let out a loud laugh. He reached above him to pull out the arrow and retrieved his helmet. He poked his finger in the hole and guffawed. “Oh-oh, I like him, Dymek!”

“You have skills with a bow.” Dymek commented, arching one eyebrow. “From where do you hail, elf? You said you were Genki?”

“Today, Taureg. Tomorrow?” She shrugged. “We shall see.”

Dymek drummed his fingers upon the table again and studied her a little more intently. “You really think that you can slay Unwin?”

“Well… We shall see.” Alyx gave another shrug and her eyes glinted. “Look at it this way, mate. If I get eaten, what’s yer loss?”

“Very true… It is a deal then.” Dymek smirked and held out his hands. “If you bring me Unwin’s head then I shall pay you the reward, Aleydis. You have my word. I hire you as my newest dragon slayer.”

“An’ with me special of the week bein’ in order, yer Grace, I’ll accept no less than the weight of the beast’s head in jewels an’ gold.” Alyx replied, cheerfully. “An’ some of the better bits o’ the beast o’ course.”

“That is a high price to pay for dragon slaying.”

“But it’s enough not to load down our mounts leavin’ the city, yer Grace.” She held up two fingers. “Two chests should do. Big ones o’ course.”

Dymek smirked again, amused by the antics of the elf before him. “Then it is a deal, Aleydis.”

“I thank you, sire.” Alyx gave the group another flamboyant bow and turned on heel to exit the dining hall.

“How will I know when you have succeed, elf?” Dymek called out at her retreating form.

“I told ya…” Alyx tossed over her shoulder. “I’ll bring ya the bloody head so ya can pay me.”

Dymek watched her leave, curious about the elf, but intrigued with his tenacity. By this time, the word of her arrival and hiring by the Prince had spread through the castle like wildfire, so not a one of the guards dared to approach the hostile elf as she left. Quigli waited with their horses outside the gates with a sour look upon his face. The dwarf was smoking from his pipe as she approached.

“So, did ya get his attention then?” Quigli asked with a chuckle, having noticed the guards shying from her. “Get us a wee bit o’ work?”

“I’m to bring him the dragon’s head.” Alyx pulled herself upon her horse and adjusted her reins. She looked to the dwarf with a smirk. “Are you ready to go dragon hunting?”

“That fire breather will taste my steel, sure enough. Now, let’s get to that pub. I’ll be wantin’ to enjoy at least one night in a soft bed ‘fore we go traipsin’ off through them mountains. We’ll not have any rest once we start this hunt, you know…” Quigli snorted and turned his pony towards the pub.

“I know.” Alyx replied, firmly. “But between the pair of us… We can outwit a dragon. I know it.”

* * *

Sarah was dreaming.

She was fifteen again and running the Labyrinth. She was in the dark underground corridors, where Jareth had set the Cleaners on her and Hoggle, but her dwarf friend was no where to be seen. The tunnels were dark, save one torch burning immediately across from her. Crossing to the torch, she moved to take it off the wall to illuminate her search. A gloved hand covered hers, stopping her actions, and she turned to see pale blonde hair in the torchlight. And just like that, Sarah was awake in her bed in Wyntr’s Keep and she realized that there was something thumping around in her closet.

Ashe was dead asleep on the floor next to her bed, and didn’t even respond to her hissing his name in fright. Sarah drew the covers up to her chin and watched the closet door with wide eyes. The thumping sound came once more and then the ornate wooden handle began to turn. She scrambled up in the bed, her back against the headboard as the door slowly opened, hinges squeaking. Wyntr’s frowning face became visible in the pale moonlight. She gave a small snort and raised the skeleton key in her hand up to eye level.

“By golly, they do work.” She turned her gaze to the relieved Sarah. “Think I was Black Annis did ya? Or that ‘booger-man’ mortals like to gripe about?”

“Boogey-man, Wyntr. He’s called the Boogey-man.” Sarah frowned. “You scared the life out of me! What in the world were you doing, rummaging around in my closet?”

“I gots something to show you.” Wyntr crossed the room and sat down on the edge of Sarah’s bed, smugly. “’Ave a looksee.”  
She tossed Sarah the skeleton key and the girl studied it with mild interest. It was a simple key, made of what looked like silver. The end was shaped like a feather. Sarah gave the witch a foul look. “You wake me up in the middle of the night, skulking around in my closet to show me an old skeleton key?”

“That’s not just any key, dearie! It’s one o’ Prince Jaron’s special keys from his Coat of Keys.” When Sarah only gave her a blank look, Wyntr sighed. “Surely, you seen Jareth’s Coat of Time with all the clocks an’ watches in the pockets?”

“Yes.”  
“Jaron’s Coat of Keys is the same thing, except each key opens different doorways to different places. Handy bit o’ magic for someone like him! ‘Course sometimes you gotta make the door first, but that’s besides the point. This key belongs to a special treasury I want ya to see. Get yer dressing gown on. We’re off for an adventure.”

“How in the world did you get that key?” Sarah asked as she threw her legs over the side of the bed and slid her feet into her waiting slippers. She also threw a glare at the still sleeping Ashe a foul look. Some big, bad protector he was.

“Oh, I borrowed it from Jareth for a bit. C’mon.” Wyntr moved to the closet door and closed it. She slipped the key into the lock and turned it, satisfied when the door began to glow. “’Course, sometimes you gotta draw a door first, but we’re lucky today.” She opened the door and Sarah was shocked to find that instead of her dresses hanging there, there was a soft golden light. Wyntr waved her inwards with a smile. “Go on then.”

Sarah stepped through the door, tentatively, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. It was a large vault, filled to the brim with treasures beyond her wildest dreams. As she stepped forward, she saw a great set of silver armor hosting a great broadsword before it. Next to that she saw a golden chessboard with silver men that were playing by themselves. All around were heaps and heaps of gold, jewels, and other precious artifacts.

“The armor and the sword belonged to Beowulf. The chess set belonged to Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio.” Wyntr explained, casually, waving one hand about. “’Course a lot of this stuff is just trinkets the Forest Queen liked… Your catskin gathered dust in here for a bit before Jaron decided to give it to ya. I think her dresses are somewheres in here too.”

“All this belonged to Queen Allerleirauh then? This is the treasury of the Forest Court?”

“Oh aye… And the Goblin Court’s stuff is here too…” Wyntr added. “Jareth guards both these days.”  
Sarah’s eyes wandered to the middle of the vault where there grew an apple tree bearing golden apples. On one low slung branch, hung the beautiful Golden Fleece. Her eyes widened. “Is tha-“

“Gifts from Jareth’s great-aunt Juno… I believe she sent them for his birthday…” Wyntr snorted. “’Course she couldn’t bear to part with a hundred-headed dragon to guard this one so he uses a hundred dunder-headed goblins…”

“Why are you showing me this all this?” Sarah asked, knowing the strange witch had reason for everything odd that she did.

Wyntr snorted, again, and picked up a rather ornate scepter. “All girls like to look at pretty baubles from time to time. Plus, I wanted you to see all the relics and treasures that the Labyrinth walls protect.”

Sarah smirked. “You just wanted to play dress up then.”

“I did not.” Wyntr protested as she tried on a large emerald encrusted ring. “I’m trying to pick out my birthday present.”

“Your birthday present?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh… Jareth always let’s me pick out a pretty from in here… Within limits of course.”

“Now, I know you’re full of crap.” Sarah sat down upon a solid gold settee, tired. “Just spit it out already, Wyntr. It’s in the middle of the night.”

Wyntr sighed. “You never want to have any fun. Fine… Things are tense in the southern lands right now and Jareth wanted me to make sure you had a way to get to the Goblin City as fast as possible… Ya know, should anything happen. So, he let me borrow one o’ Jaron’s keys. Here.”

Sarah accepted the key from Wyntr and studied it. “Oh yeah? He still thinks I can’t handle myself…”

“Bah, he’s a man! What do you expect? Queens must always accept the protection of the King. You are the proof of the fertility of his lands an’ the such.” Wyntr huffed and leaned against a gold statue. “’Sides, it ain’t a bad idea to have a back door outta the keep in the time bein’.”

“Why? What’s so wrong with the south?”

“There’s a mad dragon in the Wastes.”

Sarah frowned. “Wyntr, we live on an island.”

“Yeah an’ dragons can fly! Ya ain’t never seen what a mad dragon can do. They’ll strike fear in the hearts of the steeliest of the Unseelie. They’re nasty beasties…” Wyntr responded. “You keep that key on ya at all times, you hear me? Just in case we be needin’ it. ‘Side’s, I do like to play a bit of dress up from time to time.”

* * *

A long, lone wail echoed though out the Dragon Spine as Alyx sat perched on a rock and watching the sun set in the west behind the mountains. After leaving Taureg, they had left the Fire Pass for some of the smaller trails headed south through the Spines. They were on their second day of travel when they had pitched camp on a shielded precipice for the night. Her head cocked at the sound as the wail turned to bellows in the night.

“’Tis a dragon’s scream.” Quigli commented from behind her at the fire, where he roasted sausages for their evening meal.

Alyx nodded. “Unwin?”

“Perhaps. Few dragons will fly when one o’ their own has gone mad.” Quigli snorted. “Mad dragons are the worst of the lot of them scaly beasties. They’ll kill for the sake of the kill an’ they got no remorse nor any sense.”

“I know. I’ve read about the last mad dragon, Cahal the Desolate.” Alyx said, defensively. “It’s not like I’m going into this idea half cocked.”

“That’s news to me then!” Quigli snorted. “What makes ya think ya can take on a dragon, anyways?”

“I’m smarter than a mad dragon.” Alyx replied. “Dragons lose their wisdom when struck mad. I shall _outwit_ Unwin.”

“What be yer plan then, dragon slayer?” Quigli chuckled. “Ya gonna talk it to death?”

Alyx frowned at her companion. “Well, I’ve got to find his lair first and-“

“Oh? An’ how do ya plan to do that?” Quigli turned the sticks holding the sausages with a snort.

“I’ll follow the trail of the dead.” Alyx replied, somberly.

“You’ll end up searchin’ all over these mountains for naught, kid. Dragon lairs ain’t that easy to come by.”

Alyx pointed to the south. “That is the way the dragon howl came. That’s where I’ll find Unwin’s lair.”

Quigli raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How do ya reckon that?”

“I just know it.” Alyx shrugged. “A gut feeling, I suppose.”

“Yer trustin’ a ‘gut feelin’ to lead ya to a mad dragon?” Quigli snorted. “You sound mad yerself.”

“Well, then you just go back to Taureg. The mountains are no place for a seafaring dwarf.” Alyx ordered, hotly.

“Ya order me to abandon ya?” Quigli asked, stroking his beard. “Yer crazier than I thought, lass.”

Alyx turned to the dwarf, a rather serious look upon her face. “I am all I need, Quigli. Go back to Taureg and tell Prince Dymek that his dragon slayer sent you. Perhaps he will put you up in the castle. I will return soon and when I do, be ready to kill the dragon.”

“I’ll not be leavin’ ya-“

She gave him a foul look. “I’ll sneak off the minute you fall asleep. I’ll be miles ahead before your eyelids even flutter. Plus, I need you to get some weapons ready in Taureg. You need to get the city prepared for him to come there.”

Quigli gave her a worried look. “What kinda crazy plan did you come up with?”

“One that will only work if I head off by myself in the morning.” Alyx replied, and hugged her arms. “I’ll make ya a deal. If I can’t find the lair in a week. I’ll come back to Taureg and we can both set out together again… Savvy?”

“I donna like the idea of ya being off in the wild without me, but I know ya got a lot more sense than Squall on his best days… Ya got a deal, lassie. I’ll head for Taureg in the mornin’ an’ ya can go South alone.” Quigli gave her a fierce gaze and shook one finger at her. “But if I don’t see ya by sunset on the fifth day, I’m comin’ lookin’ for ya. An’ I ain’t gonna be happy.”

* * *

A trio of riders charged through the misty forest, the horses grunting and panting in the pre-dawn light. Their hoofs pounded through the underbrush until they hit a foggy meadow. The first rider reined his steed to a stop, signaling the others to do the same. His breathing was deep and rugged, but no eyes could be seen under his dark armor as he scanned the cloudy skies. Letting loose a piercing whistle, he signaled and a dark blur of feathers erupted from the tree line. It was a large black eagle that tore through the skies and towards its indicated target.

Ahead, struggling in the skies was their target, a gyrfalcon. It was attempting to make its way across the vast meadow. The larger eagle tucked its wings and dove, hurtling its body into the gyrfalcon and knocking it from the skies. The smaller bird’s slammed into the heather and the riders headed for its downed body. As they approached they found not a downed bird, but the broken body of the Goblin Prince amongst a spattering of golden feathers.

Jaron was pretty sure that damned eagle had broken his right arm when it had slammed into him in the skies, but it was his harsh landing into the heather that had dislocated his shoulder. Though he was in pain, Jaron relished the feeling of being Fae again. He had been trapped in his gyrfalcon form for far too long and his mind and been slowly becoming more and more birdlike. Cursing in Goblinese, he clutched at his wounded arm. The riders approached and he tried to get to his knees. With a guttural yell, he slammed his body down against the ground, relocating his limp shoulder. Moaning in pain, he rolled over to face the riders. The leader of the trio held out his arm, and the dark eagle landed, accepting the hunk of flesh its master fed it.

“Overgrown woodpecker.” Jaron muttered under his breath as he struggled to rise to his feet.

Upon regaining his footing, he stood defiantly before the trio of dark riders, raising his chin high. He studied them for a long moment and then took off at a sprint across the meadow. The head rider signaled again, and the rider to his left took off after the escaping Goblin Prince. Coming up alongside Jaron, he reached down, cuffing him upside his head and throwing him to the hard ground. Within moments, the rider had his arm around his throat and a blade at his neck. Jaron realized that his latest escape was yet another failure and relaxed his struggles. It took little time for the riders to return him to Queran and where Mab waited. She was eerily calm when they presented him to her after his escape and she merely studied him with cold eyes.

“Pack my things, slave.” She ordered. “We are headed south.”

* * *

She smelled the lair before she even set eyes upon it.

Alyx wandered the mountains for days, headed south and towards the dragon’s wail. When the paths proved too treacherous for her horse to travel, she set the beast free, hoping it would return safely to Taureg. Her supplies eventually began to grow low and she realized she would have to turn back for Taureg to replenish and try again. She had begun to lose faith.

Then the scent of death nearly overpowered her, as she stumbled along one rocky ledge. Quickly covering her mouth and nose with her muffler, she followed the direction of the stench, trying to suppress the urge to vomit. It was not long before she came upon the beginnings of the graveyard. All around her were the skeletons and rotting carcasses of Unwin’s many victims. Mostly she saw beasts of all sorts, but she cringed when she came across a more humanoid skeleton, still in its scorched armor. Kneeling beside the long dead, she studied the armor encasing the body. When she brushed the soot from the breastplate, she saw it was emblazoned with a red dragon, the symbol of Taureg’s troops. She had found the Prince’s former dragon slayer.

Alyx wrinkled her nose in disgust and moved on. Another rock ledge loomed before her when the trail of the dead stopped. Climbing the small shelf, she took cover in a small cluster of boulders. She peered over the rock ledge, her eyes scanning for any sign of the dragon, and nearly gasped in surprise. Across from her very hiding spot was the great dark mouth of a cave and littered near the entrance were more skeletons. She had found his lair. She moved to go forward to study the cave when a great black shadow flew overhead. She dove back into hiding. His landing striking with enough force to shake the earth, Unwin the Mad revealed himself to Alyx for the first time.

He was a great beast and one of the few left of the ancient Wyverns breed. Balancing on his two back legs, he stood as high as a barn, but used his great leathery wings as two front legs so he could slink along the ground. Each of his scales were the size of her head and gleamed in the sunlight in a bright hue of greens and blues. His neck was short and thick, leading to a bulbous head like a viper, crowned with a single ridge of spikes running down his spine. His great spade tail came thundering down from above, nearly smashing her into the rocks. She dove out the way in the nick of time and still managed to hide herself. Her heart thudded in fear and she began to shake. Attempting to ease her ragged breathing, she peered back around at her quarry.

From his great fangs, to her dismay, fell the remains of her recently released horse. She went pale as she watched him use one of the clawed fingers on his wing to pry the poor mount’s bones from between his stained teeth. Each of the teeth in his festering mouth was bigger than her palms and razor sharp. After ridding himself of the pesky bones, he gave a great snort, spitting out small balls of flame against the rock face. He _was_ a fire breather… A bloody fire breather! Inwardly, Alyx groaned. She felt like slapping herself for coming to do something this stupid. This is a bad idea… A _really_ bad idea, she berated herself, inwardly. Of all your bad ideas, this is the worst!

Thankfully, she was downwind of Unwin, and the beast did not even notice her presence. It simply left the remains of its meal and slinked away into its cave as the sun began to set. Using this prime opportunity, Alyx fled to find a better hiding spot that was a safer distance from the beast’s home. Alyx thanked whatever God of luck that was watching over her when she found a crevice in the great rock wall facing the cavern. From this hiding hole, she looked over the graveyard and had an excellent view of the cave mouth. The hole was small, barely big enough for her to shimmy inside and it forced her to rest upon her stomach to watch for her quarry. This she was glad for because it meant if the beast got after her, he couldn’t get to her. Though to her dismay, her hiding place was also a dead end, seeing as how it only went about ten feet into the side of the hill before it ended. Propping her chin up with her fists, she settled in and watched.

* * *

Dymek groaned in annoyance when he heard the heavy knock upon his chamber doors. He had no time for interruptions for he had been brainstorming for hours on his dragon problem and had yet to find a solution. The Prince had little faith that the odd elf would even find the beast, let alone slay it. Dymek knew that as ruler, it was his duty to find a way to rid his lands of Unwin. He put his weary gaze upon the door and sighed, heavily.

“Enter.”

A small gnome peeked in and said. “Many apologies, Your Grace, but the Goblin King is here. He wishes for an audience with you.”

Dymek sighed again. “Send him in.”

“I am already ‘in’, Dymek.” Jareth’s cool voice came from the balcony and Dymek was unsurprised to find the Goblin King watching him with his mismatched stare. “My grandfather tells me that you have a dragon problem.”

“Oh, but haven’t you heard? I have hired a dragon slayer.” Dymek snorted and leaned back in his chair. “I have the shortest and strangest elf I have ever seen scouring the Dragon Spine as we speak… He’s quite young and full of gumption… I’m fairly certain that he has not even seen fifty summers, yet he has a hardness beyond his years.”

It was Jareth’s turn to snort. “Surely, you are joking.”

“If only… His Dwarfish companion is staying in my guest quarters, while the elf partner searches out the beast.” Dymek laughed. “I’ll tell you, Jareth… I’ve never seen a stranger pair. I think the elf is Genki. He’s got those odd tattoos on his face that they love so much. The dwarf drinks more than a legion of my men put together, and has my halls stinking of fire grass…”

“Why in the blazes would you hire them? They sound like con artists!”  
“The elf snuck into my castle when the guards would not grant him entrance. He scaled the walls. Then he impressed me with his gumption when he nearly scalped Tiege with an arrow in my dining hall. Rather hostile little thing, if you ask me, but amusing.” Dymek moved to pour himself another glass of wine and offered another to Jareth. “He is to bring me the beast’s head.”

Jareth accepted the glass with one cocked eyebrow. “Surely, you don’t believe he will succeed?”

“Of course not, but the little lad was quite persistent, so I sent him on his merry way. I do not expect him to return. What ideas do you have to offer me, Jareth?”

“Poisoned bait, perhaps?” Jareth mused. “Traps?”

“Unwin may be mad, but he is far from stupid. I have tried everything the brightest minds in my kingdom have come up with and nothing has worked. He has ignored our poisoned bait, broken all our traps, and killed many of my best soldiers. I’ve even considered borrowing Beowulf’s suit of armor and sword from you and going after the bastard myself.”

Jareth frowned. “You cannot leave your people without a leader, Dymek.”

“If this destruction keeps up, I will have no people left to lead!” Dymek responded, slamming one fist down on the table. “The beast hunts those travel though the pass, leaving few lucky enough to make it to and from my city. Every last outpost in the mountains has been destroyed and he has even had the gall to attack my city! When he has had his fill of mine he attacks those in the Wastes. Xanthe Fai, Ha-Neul, Phuong… All have felt his fire. I am nearly out of time and completely out of ideas. If the beast attacks again, I shall be forced to evacuate my city.”

“Perhaps, I could go into the Wastes and speak with one of the elder dragons and-“

“I have tried. All the elders refuse to fly. Even Rithisak the Golden hides in his own lair. Not one will heed Puff’s mighty roar these days. All are terrified of Unwin.”

“Keep faith, Dymek. I will travel to Chavon and speak with King Stieran. Centaurs are wise beyond their years and perhaps he can find a solution to this menace. Until then, hold onto this.” Jareth handed the prince a golden key in the shape of a goblin head.

Dymek studied it. “What-“

“It is from my brother’s Coat of Keys. It is the key to the gates of the Goblin City… Should the need to evacuate your city arise…” Jareth replied.

Dymek’s face fell at the mention of Jaron. “I am still truly sorry for the loss of your brother, Jareth… He was… One in a million.”

“He is not lost… Merely _misplaced_.”

“I will guard this key with my life.”

“You make sure and do just that.”

* * *

It was nearly sunset of the fifth day and Quigli paced before the gates to Taureg, nervously. Dymek had been hospitable enough to his dragon slayer’s partner, and offered Quigli lodgings in his castle, but the dwarf spent little time there these days. His eyes were on the mouth of the trails that led through the southern mountains. When the prince approached his pacing figure, Quigli grunted in annoyance.

“It seems your friend has lost his way in the mountains, dwarf.” Dymek said, smoothly. “I will never see the head of Unwin at this rate.”

“Ya just wait! If there be anyone who can slay a mad dragon, it’ll be that elf!” Quigli snapped in response.

“Yer a man of little faith, Prince Dymek.” A new voice interrupted the arguing pair and they turned to find Alyx watching them. She was covered with the dirt and grime from living in the mountains, but she seemed ecstatic.

“I’ve been worried to death ‘bout you!” Quigli snarled. “I thought ya’d been eaten.”

Dymek replied, smoothly. “I see no dragon head, elf.”

Alyx ignored him and bent down before Quigli, her eyes bright and almost mad. She gasped. “I found it. I found his lair! I found it in the south just like I thought.”

Quigli’s eyes grew wide and he grabbed her shoulders. “Ya really found it, then?”

She nodded, enthusiastically. “I’ve never seen so much treasure! It was amazing! There was the loot of a thousand kingdoms there!”

“And my dragon problem?” Dymek interrupted, loudly. “What have you done to solve it?”  
Alyx looked up at him with a smirk. She dug deep into her pocket and produced a single gold coin. “I ‘ave drawn the first blood, yer Grace.”

Quigli’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the coin. “Ya stole from a dragon? Are ya mad?!”

“I can’t fight him in the mountains or in his lair. I need the openness of the pass to battle ‘im.” Alyx replied, coolly, as she pocketed the coin.

“You would bring his wrath down upon my people?” Dymek asked, angrily. “He will slaughter my city!”

Alyx shook her head. “No, he’ll not. Not until he gets his coin back. He’ll not risk losin’ it in the rubble. Dragon’s are far too greedy.”

“I should behead you right now!” Dymek snarled. “You will get my people killed with this mad plan!” 

“Ya donna have much faith then, huh?” Alyx snapped. “Now get outta my way. I’m hungry an’ I want to sleep in a proper bed tonight.”

Shoving him to the side, she passed Dymek with the full intent of headed towards the nearest pub. Dymek grabbed her by the arm, roughly.

“Oh no, elf. You shall be staying as a _guest_ in my castle until the dragon comes for your hide.”

She jerked her arm free and gave him n extravagant bow. “As ya wish, yer Grace.”

Hours later, Alyx was standing on her balcony and staring southwards. A lone dragon wail drifted across the plains and Alyx tensed. It had come from the south and she knew that Unwin had found his gold missing. Quigli came to her side.

“He’ll be here by dawn.” He commented. “Noon at the latest.”

“I know.” Alyx replied, rubbing the coin between two fingers. “I’m ready for him.”

“You’d better be.” Quigli snorted. “There’s ain’t been no goin’ back since you took that shiny bit o’ coin.”

* * *

In addition to the key Wyntr presented her, Sarah was even more surprised when Roland showed up at the keep the very next day. The once unkempt prince was back to his usual joyful self. Upon seeing her, he announced himself as her new fencing tutor. Then they spent the next few hours sparring, so he could get a feel of her abilities. When they finished, he spent the remainder of the afternoon filling her in on what he could remember of his years in hiding and Trog’s disappearance.

“I think she ‘eaded for Magesblood. A suicide mission to save Jaron.” Roland shook his head sadly and stuck his rapier into the dirt at his feet. “An’ I was too drunk to stop her.”

“Don’t blame yourself. We all knew she’d go at some point.” Sarah replied and wiped at her sweaty brow. It had been some time since her last fencing lesson. “She always was a stubborn little fairy.”

“Truer words never spoken, madam.” Roland gave her a smile. “So I ‘eard you an’ Jareth ‘ad a row? Ya sent the hedge maze on fire?”

She frowned. “Did he tell everyone?”

“Nah, them goblin’s did. Them an’ fairies are the worst kinda gossips. Anyways, it’s good for ya to be ‘ere with Wyntr. She’s a hell of a teacher.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…” Sarah changed the subject, hoping to avoid more conversations about her and Jareth. “So are you really concerned about this mad dragon?”

“’Course I am! Mad dragons are never a good thing. Mostly them dragons police their own, but the mad ones are another story all together!” Roland grimaced.

“Jareth sent me one of Jaron’s keys.” She dug it from her pocket and held it out to him. “It-“

“Goes straight to the treasury.” Roland nodded. “Me an’ Jaron used that one a bit now an’ again… Mostly to coerce a dyrad or two into a quick tumble in the gold, but it be one o’ the safest places in the Underground. Keep that key close.”

“She frowned. “Now, _you’ve_ got me worried.”

He shrugged. “It’s likely you’ll not even ‘ear his screams, but mad dragon’s ain’t predictable.”

She hugged her knees to her chest. “Do you… You saw Alyx… Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Roland gave her warm smile. “That girl be in more than well enough shape to take care of herself. If I know her, she’ll be miles and miles away from that bloody mess in the Wastes… Rest assured.”

* * *

Quigli awoke well before dawn and headed towards Alyx’s room. He was surprised to find she was already gone and so he headed for the city gates. Taureg was eerily quiet as he made his way through town. All the townsfolk had gathered in the castle, ready to use the magic doorway their prince had set up for their escape, should the battle go bad. Legions of soldiers manned the walls of the city, nervously awaiting the dragon’s approach. Quigli sighed and reached into his pocket for his pipe as he crossed to the gate. Stroking a match, he moved to light the pipe.

The attacked happened before he could take his first puff.

Unwin’s massive body slammed down from the sky beside him, and Quigli tucked and rolled to one side, breaking his pipe in the progress. He spat the splintered wood from between his lips and drew his axe to face the snarling beast.

With a piercing battle cry, Alyx leapt from the roof of the nearest building, the pair of enchanted axes in each hand. Unwin swung his massive head, connecting with her flying body and throwing her through a nearby apple cart. Alyx pulled herself from the wreckage and prepared to attack again.

“Tell me what to do now, dragon expert!” Quigli spat and dove to avoid Unwin’s spade-shaped tail. Spinning back around, Quigli flung his axe, satisfied when it stuck in the dragon’s flank, causing the beast to scream. Unwin turned his head around and caught the armored covered dwarf in his festering mouth. With a mighty swing, he threw Quigli at Alyx, knocking both back into the shambles of the apple cart.

“Fire!” Tiege’s voice roared and a volley of arrows filled the sky, all raining down on Unwin.

The great beast snarled and with one mighty flap of his winged arms, he was up and flying out of the archer’s reaches. Dymek, also in full armor, raced towards where Alyx bent over Quigli, pressing down upon his bloody wound. The pair managed to carry the injured dwarf to the gates and up to the top of the turret.

The dwarf grumbled through his pain. “Fuckin’ fire breather clawed me up something fierce.”

She looked up to Dymek as the dragon bellowed over the city. Dymek moved to help her bandage the wounded dwarf and caught her steel gaze.

Her voice was grim when she spoke. “Do not let him die.”

Alyx reached down to pick up her axes and Quigli grabbed the long bow wrapped around her torso, halting her movements. She paused and locked her stormy eyes on his.

Quigli hissed. “Don’t do it, kid. He’ll kill you!”

She pried his fingers loose. “He can try.”

Whirling around, her duster flowed behind her as she took off at a run from them. In one giant leap, she was astride her horse and kicking it into action. Quigli struggled to his feet and staggered to the turret, scanning the grounds before the castle. The doors opened with a mighty boom. Her horse flew through the front gates and into the open plains.

“No.” Quigli whispered, hoarsely. “Don’t try it, lass!”

There was a great vortex of wind and a dark shadow as the dragon swooped down low over the city and towards Alyx’s retreating figure. The beast let out a great bellow and a burst of flames from his gullet as he chased the girl.

Dymek cursed. “The boy is a fool! The dragon will kill him.” 

“He leads Unwin away from the castle, my Lord.” Tiege said. “And into the Pass.”

“We gotta help!” Quigli gasped, reaching for his axe. “We gotta help!”

“There is nothing we can do. Hope that the lad has a plan, dwarf.” Dymek ordered.

“That damned brat never plans a fucking thing!” Quigli grunted as his wound throbbed with each movement. “She’ll get herself killed out there!”

“There is nothing we can do. We must wait.” Dymek said, ignoring the inconstancies he was finding in the dwarf’s words. Perhaps it was merely the pain of his wound that made him speak such words. “We must pray to the gods that the elf wins.”

* * *

Alyx rode hard, all too aware of the crazed dragon at her back, blowing flames, and roaring into the wind. She dug her heels into the side of her mount, urging him faster across the flatlands of the Fire Pass. A great shadow covered her and she drew her bow, quickly. Notching a silver arrow from her quiver, she leaned back in her saddle, clenching the sides of her mount with her legs. She faced the sky, and let the arrow fly, upwards. Unwin bellowed in rage as the arrow hit its mark, shredding through the thin, leathery skin of his right wing. As fast as she could grab them, she launched arrows at the dragon’s wing, riddling them with holes. With a great roar, Unwin gave a mighty flick of his tail, and slammed into the side of her horse, hurling the horse and rider through the air. Alyx flew from her saddle, crashing into the dirt, and breaking her long bow in the process. She rolled onto her back, scanning the skies for the dragon.

Unwin landed before her and the ground shook with his weight. He bellowed in rage and smoke curled from his nostrils. He took a deep breath and blew a stream of flames at Alyx. She rolled over quickly, and curled beneath the shield strapped to her back. The heat licked all around her, burning at her hair and clothing as she grunted in pain. When his breath ended, she rolled over, ripping her smoking duster from her body, leaving only her chain mail shirt to protect her. She unsheathed her sword and scrambled to her feet. Drawing her shield before her, she faced the dragon down, head on. Smoke curled from her singed clothing and hair. Her muffler was long lost or burnt away, and soot smudged her face. One side of her face was a raw with lacerations from her tumble from the horse and she spat out a mouthful of blood. The combination of blood and soot upon her pale skin made for a nightmarish form of war paint.

Unwin burst into a deep, barking laugh and he spoke for the first time. “They send a child to slay me?”

“I’m no child, Unwin the Mad!” Alyx yelled. “I’m Aleydis of Taureg and Aneurin of the Genkis; Pirate, thief, and slayer of dragons!”

“You lie!” The dragon hissed. “You are none of those names or titles!”

Alyx raised her chin, defiantly. “I’m Alyxandrea, the Girl Who Wished Herself Away.”

Unwin snorted out a laugh. “A mortal then? This shall be cake…”

“Not quite, but I do have something that belongs to you.” Alyx smirked. “I will see your blood today, Unwin.”

“Thief! Neither the strength of your steel nor the weight of those axes shall fell me, fool!” Unwin bellowed and then ordered. “Return my treasure and your death will be swift.”

Alyx dug into her pocket and produced the solitary gold coin she had lifted from Unwin’s cavern. It gleamed in the sunlight and the dragon hissed at the sight of his lost piece of treasure. Alyx flipped it in the air and caught it in her fist with a low growl. “Come and take it from me, beast!”

Unwin roared in rage and charged her, causing the earth to shake with his heavy steps. She screamed and raced towards the looming dragon, slicing upwards at his snapping jaws and jagged teeth with her sword. Smashing into his snout with her shield, she thrust her sword deep into his right eye. He howled in pain and swung his head against her, hard, throwing her to one side. He clawed at his face, trying to rid himself of the sword still lodged in his eye socket. Her shield lost in the tumble, Alyx forced herself back up to her feet, and began to run back towards the dragon.

Pulling an arrow from her quiver, she slammed it under a scale on his hindquarters, using it to swing herself up into the air and upon his back. Scrambling for a grip on his spiny back, she dragged herself up to the middle. Grasping an arrow in each fist, she threw herself out on his wing, slamming both arrows through the leathery skin. Her weight dragged her down and the arrows cut jagged slits in the webbing as she went. Howling in pain, Unwin tried to reach around and bite her, but she dodged his snapping head. Swinging his ruined wing around, he managed to catch one of her chain mail covered arms in his mouth. She screamed as the tips of his teeth penetrated the armor and both cut and burned her at the same time. Jerking it free from his wing, she slammed the arrow into his nostril, and he jerked back in pain. Shrieking, he threw her to the ground once more and attempted to trample her. Despite the great pain in her arm and the aches of her broken body, Alyx lurched to her feet and drew her last weapons from her back. Whistler and Piper, the twin pair of silver dwarf war axes.

Hefting the heavy axes, she bade the dragon to come to her with her injured arm. “Well, come at it then, Unwin the Mad! Let’s finish this!”

Unwin snarled at the impertinent thing before him. “I shall roast you alive! You have ruined my wing and my eye!”

She swung the heavy axes and they whistled as they cut the air. She took off at a run for the dragon, a battle cry at her bloody lips. The dragon roared and charged her. Both axes sliced through the air and Unwin jerked from their reach before their collision, trying to dodge her hacks at him. Many of her swings hit true and she, occasionally, took chunks of his snapping face. As he bent to bite at her, she swung Whistler with all of her might and embedded it into Unwin’s last good eye. The dragon screamed as his head rose towards the sky and his body thrashed about, wildly. She dodged his manic body as he clawed at his ruined eye sockets and shrieked out his pain. He rolled and crashed, and he tried in vain to find his assailant, but she dodged his claws, deftly. Nearing his thrashing head as it swooped low in search of her, she lifted Piper above her head and brought it down hard, embedding it deep into the dragon’s skull. With one last groan and thrash of his great body, Unwin the Mad collapsed and lay still, shaking the earth with his great fall.

Breathing heavily and covered in the dragon’s dark, rank blood, Alyx staggered to his head to retrieve her axe from between the ruined sockets that were once his eyes. She rested her booted foot upon his snout and wrenched Piper free with a grunt. Staggering back towards the city, she could hear the cheers of the crowds. She smiled, weakly, and then felt the mighty suck of air as something dove above her. Looking up, she saw the mighty claw of a golden dragon as it swooped to collect her. The axe fell from her fingertips as its great claw wrapped around her and he took off towards the towering mountains. She struggled in vain against his iron grip as he flew over the plains and towards the highest mountains. The snowcaps swept by, rapidly, as the dragon flew further and further from Taureg. Slowly, she grew weaker, until she lost consciousness, flying into the coming night.

* * *

“Wake up, dragon slayer.”

Alyx’s eyes snapped open and she scrambled away from the golden dragon looming over her. If possible, he was large than Unwin, but a vastly different species. His body was sleek and covered in rounded golden scales. His great wings looked like a pair of spiny ridges down his back ending before his whip like tale. She grabbed for her axe and found it gone. She edged back from the dragon as lowered its massive head to look at her. Her back hit the cave wall as its snout came within feet from her. His massive head was crowned with a horned ridge and long tendrils, much like whiskers hung down around his mouth. His bright red eyes narrowed into slits at her.

“You dropped it, pre-flight.” The dragon smirked and a deep, ancient voice crept past his lips, tendrils flapping. “You’ll find that you need no weapons here.”

“Where am I?” She asked, her eyes darting, wildly, in the darkness.

“My cave. Follow me.”

The dragon turned and began to step away. Alyx rose to her feet, carefully, and took stumbling steps to follow the golden dragon’s glow. Holding her injured arm to her side, she could still feel Unwin’s dark blood upon her skin and wondered how much of that blood was hers as well. The golden dragon opened its mouth to shoot out a long thin blue flame that immediately lit the torches lining the long tunnel’s walls.

“Follow me, Aleydis of Taureg.” The dragon commanded and led her deeper into the mountain.

“How do you know me?” Alyx asked.

“All dragons know the name of the one who dared to take on Unwin the Mad.” The golden dragon replied as he moved, gracefully. “Your title is known far and wide in these lands.”

Alyx limped along and, mercifully, the dragon noticed her troubles and traveled slow for her sake. They reached a dark entrance way to a seemingly massive and dark cavern. He again opened his mouth and shot a blue flame towards the ceiling lighting the torches in the massive cavern. Alyx gasped as the room was illuminated and she saw all of the treasures it held. There was far more here than had been in Unwin’s lair. There were mounds and mounds of golden coins, jewels, scepters, and crowns, and other glittering treasures. She stepped further into the den, her eyes trying to take it all in. Carved into the walls were many shelves and cubbyholes that held either more treasures or scrolls and books of the ancients. The dragon watched her with a curved smile as she lost herself in the wonder that the cavern held.

“My treasures are pleasing, aren’t they?” He asked and she turned to face him, sharply.

“Why did you bring me here?” Alyx asked.

“To reward you, youngling. I am Rithisak the Golden.” He blew out a small ring of smoke. “This is my den, Aleydis of Taureg, Dragon Slayer and Friend to the Dragons.”

“Reward me?” Alyx asked. “For what?

“Making the skies safe once more. It is safe to fly again over the Wastes and the mountains now that Unwin the Mad has perished under your axes. We dragons wish to reward you for your courage and valor.”

“I am owed no treasure for this deed.” Alyx replied, humbly.

“There is more to treasure than gold and jewels, you know.” Rithisak replied and turned his horned head towards her. “Knowledge.” Rithisak hissed. ”That is the greatest treasure.”

He pointed one curled toe towards a pile of treasure to her right. “Bring me that golden chalice.”

Alyx moved to the pile of treasures and retrieved the simple chalice. Bringing the large cup before him, she remained wary of the dragon’s great might. The golden dragon lifted his front leg to his mouth and bit down hard, letting his blood to flow free. He held out the leg to let the blood fill the chalice in her hands. It hissed and bubbled in the cup as it rose to near overfilling.

“Drink now! While the blood is still fresh and hot!” He ordered and without question, she pressed the chalice to her lips.

The boiling blood ran passed her lips and down her throat. It burned inside her as she swallowed the brew, but she was determined to drink until the last drop. As she emptied the cup, it tumbled from her fingers, and she sank to her knees. Clutching her stomach, she moaned against the burn of the blood inside her. Ancient magic flowed, freely, through her veins as she gasped for breath, one palm supporting her above the cavern floor.

“The pain will not last.” Rithisak assured her. “Dragon’s blood is a powerful magic… Especially when just felled from the beating heart of a living dragon.”

“It burns!” Alyx gasped, clutching at her heart where the magic had begun to settle.

“As all new things do, young one.”

Alyx felt the pain begin to subside and her eyes went back to the great dragon before her. The golden dragon curled his tail around her weakened body, to support her as she recovered and rose to her feet.

“You shall find your wounds are healing and your strength, slowly, recovered. You shall still bear the scars of your great battle for you are still mortal. The blood I have given you will bring you great power and strength in your journey, young Alyxandrea.”

She looked up at him sharply, all color draining from her face. “How di-“

He chuckled. “We dragons are wise. We listen to the whispering wind when we fly and she tells us many secrets. I know of your quest to save the Goblin Prince and I hope, dearly, that you succeed.”

“As do I.” Alyx confessed. “Where is he? Tell me! I would storm even Magesblood’s front gates for him.”

“Today he laments in Naga Coast under the Unseelie whips, but even there he is too far from your grasp. Let’s return you to Taureg. You need to gather your spoils.”

* * *

  


Quigli refused to stay to his sick bed, but remained at the turrets, watching the skies and Pass for Alyx. For hours he sat, either smoking at his pipe or mumbling to himself. Dymek approached him as the sun began to set in the distance.

Dymek put his hand upon Quigli’s shoulder. “Rest, dwarf. I shall watch for your friend’s return. Rithisak will not harm her. She is likely to be thanked most generously by the great elder dragon.”

“I got me orders. I promised I’d watch out fer her, I did.” Quigli snorted. “An’ I’ll not be leavin’ me post.”

“Her?” Dymek asked, sharply, reminded again to the words the dwarf let slip during the battle. “What do you mean by that?” 

Quigli looked up to the prince. “Mind not me tongue, I misspoke.”

“No. You said _her_.” Dymek took a deep breath, sorting out the situation. “That does explain a lot. Why did she not tell me that she was a woman?”

“Would ya ‘ave hired her?” Quigli snorted.

“Of course not, but that is still a great secret to keep, dwarf.”

“That lass has her reasons, me lord.” Quigli shrugged. “Danu knows, I donna know what they are. I’m be merely a friend an’ I know very little of her ways.”

“She calls herself Aleydis, but I have also heard you call her Aneurin. Are either of those her true name?” Dymek asked, rather curious about this odd girl. “She once said she was Genki. Is that where she hails from?”

“She be from wherever the wind blows her… As for her name, well, many be known by many names in this vast Underground.” Quigli retorted. “Ya know how them fairies like their nicknames.”

“Yes, but very few women _hide_ in the guise of men.” Dymek snapped. “Why the lies?”

“I told ya, she’s got her reasons. I donna press the matter. I’m only her friend an’ not a close one at that.” Quigli repeated.

Dymek froze at the turrets and took a deep breath. “Is she the one? The Girl Who Wished Herself Away? The mortal that the High King Oberon seeks?”

Quigli looked to him, glaring. “’Aven’t asked… Nor spoke of it… There be too many ears flittin’ ‘bout for the Dark Queen for such talk.”

Quigli looked back over the horizon and squinted in dawn’s light topping the mountains. In the distance Unwin’s body still lay where he was defeated. Many were afraid to touch the mad dragon, even in his death. As he watched, he could see slight movement around the corpse. Stumbling for his pack, he fished out his eyepiece, and adjusted it as the sun rose over the mountains and shed light down upon the plains. He let out a mighty whoop.

“What is it?” Dymek asked, scanning the horizon.

Quigli chuckled. “I believe it be yer dragon slayer, me lord. He’s returnin’ with the head of the kill.”

Dymek snatched the eyepiece from the dwarf and focused on the horizon. Scanning the body of the dragon, he saw a figure take up two lines of rope attached to the dragon’s head. Alyx put all her strength into her pull as she began to drag Unwin’s head towards Taureg. Digging her feet into the sand and dirt, she struggled to bear her trophy. A cloud of dust rose between her and Taureg and she saw riders approaching. Using what was left of her strength, she conjured a weak glamour to scar and tattoo her bloody, yet feminine face to make her look more elfish. She ceased her struggles and moved to pull her last bloody axe from Unwin’s eye socket. The rider’s stopped before her and she stepped before the Prince.

She gestured to the head with the axe. “I bring ya the head of Unwin the Mad, Prince Dymek, as per our bargain.”

Dymek chuckled, heartily. “Indeed you have, elf!”

Quigli scrambled from his horse and hobbled to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He whispered against her stomach. “I thought we’d lost ya, lass.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be so lucky, worry-wart.” She sunk to her knees to hug the dwarf back and chuckled. “Do me a favor… Don’t _ever_ let me do this sort of thing again.”

Quigli snorted and gave her a shove away from him, realizing all the eyes that were on them. “Yer damned right I won’t! I nearly got eaten whole by that damned dragon!”

Alyx laughed and looked up to Dymek. “So will ya be payin’ me now or after the celebration, Yer Grace?”

Dymek’s face broke into a wide grin and he laughed. “Only after you have rested and drank your fill, elf!”

The prince dismounted his own steed and handed out the reins to Alyx. She gave him a funny look as he offered them to her.

He spoke, low and for only her ears. “Take them, my lady. I owe you much more than that.”

Her eyes widened, slightly, at his words. 

He spoke louder. “Take my horse, Aleydis the Dragonslayer, and ride back to Taureg in comfort.”

She took the reins and mounted the stallion. She turned her mount to ride for the palace. She held herself up straight in the saddle, even though me many aches and pains threatened to overwhelm her. Quigli rushed his horse to catch up to her.

He spoke low. “Are ya all right, lass?”

“How does he know?” Alyx hissed.

“Never mind that! Lass, are ya hurt?” 

She nodded. “Aye, but I shall stay straight until we reach the castle. I’m no damned weakling, Quigli.”

* * *

The celebration lasted two days and three nights. After Quigli tended her wounds, Alyx joined the celebration the first day, but retired to her private quarters for the next few days and rested. It was only on the third day that she felt well enough to move about, but she still stayed in her room. Dymek had told both she and Quigli to stay as long as they liked in his castle. Dymek stepped into Alyx’s bedroom and looked for her to no avail. He stepped for her balcony doors and paused when he saw her. The finicky shoes did not dress her plainly as she would have wished, but as the lady she was.

She stared out over the Fire Pass, the winds blowing her dress around her slender form. The dress was bright gold against the black of the night. It seemed there were yards upon yards of the flimsy material surrounding her body, but it exposed her pale back and provided a scooped neck in the front. Her fair skin sparkled as she moved in the moonlight and at the crown of her head sat a golden circlet of jasmine leaves. Her full and dark hair showed no mark of the former singes and he saw not a scar on her elfish body. She grasped the edge of the balcony, her knuckles white. She looked as if that if she had the wings that she would take flight towards the south at any moment.

“Aleydis?” Dymek spoke and startled the girl before him. She reached for a blade that was not at her waist and blushed. Her glamour shifted, slightly, showing a glimpse of her true form, and then it focused to make her elfish again, with tattoos dancing along her skin. Raising her chin, she took a breath.

“Yer lucky I don’t have me blade, yer grace. Ya would of been slain.” Alyx stated.

Dymek held his hands up in apology. “I am sorry to startle you, my lady. Please, do not continue your pirate rouse with me. Speak as you wish.”

Alyx smirked and resumed her normal speech pattern. “It’s not that much of a rouse. I am a pirate sometimes.”

“You have a talent for their prettied words and gestures.” He cleared his throat, nervously. “I was worried when you did not take dinner in the great hall again tonight. Many wished to hear the tale of how you slayed the great dragon.”

“They have all heard it many times. I am busy healing.” She gestured to herself with a smirk. “As you can see, my glamour has a will of its own at times. I felt it was for my own safety that I stay here in the tower.”

“I understand.” He took a step closer and nodded in the direction she had been staring. “What has your attention in the southern lands this night, my lady?”

Alyx looked back towards the south and her face softened as the breeze whipped through her hair. “The wind whispers to me of an unfinished quest, Your Grace. Something yet to be done…”

At her side in an instant, Dymek cupped her cheek, gently, and turned her face to meet his. “Isn’t your great quest done, madam? You have slain the mad dragon and saved my people. I owe you a great debt and I am in awe of you.”

“Did you decide this before or after you found that I was a woman?” Alyx asked, bluntly, straightening her back, and leaning away from his touch. “Who was it that told you?”

“In his worry for you, your dwarf let it slip.” Dymek confessed and took her hand. “I had my suspicions before then, I’ll admit. Regardless if you are woman or man or Fae or Elfish, I owe you a great debt, Aleydis.”  
“You have paid me and given me rest and lodging, Prince. I need no more.” Alyx replied, drawing her hand from his. “You owe me nothing else.”

Dymek gave her a smile. ”If my people knew you to be a woman, they would wish you crowned Princess of Taureg... And to that I would agree.”

Alyx met his eyes and took a sharp breath. “What?”

“Stay in Taureg, my lady. Be my bride.” His hand drifted to her cheek, again, where his thumb rubbed along her jaw line. “I shall protect you from whatever it is that you hide and smite those who dare to harm you.”

Alyx turned her face away, quickly. “I am sorry, Dymek. I can not and will not.”

“Why?”

“I can not ignore the wind. She steers me true to my course.” Her attention again went to the southern mountains as a cool wind whipped around her and towards the southlands. Her eyes closed as her arms drew out, as if by the winds themselves, and reached towards Naga Coast. “Can you not hear the voices on the wind calling me? They beg me to finish what I have begun.”

Dymek reached for her hand and drew her reluctant form back to him. “What does your heart tell you?”

Alyx drew her hand away and rested it over her thudding heart. “It sings a song for another… Someone that I lost long ago.”

The Prince of Taureg took a deep breath. “Then you _are_ her. The Girl Who Loves the Goblin Prince.”

Alyx looked up to him, sharply, and smiled a little. “Is that what they call me nowadays? I was once only the Girl Who Wished Herself Away.”

“It is true then?” Dymek asked. “You are not mortal, but not Fae either.” 

“I am somewhere in between at the present, Prince Dymek.” Alyx admitted and then her tone became harsh. “And I fear now that I have stayed here far too long. I am in need a pair of mounts for my companion and I… We ride at dawn.”

“You leave us so soon?”

“If my name is even whispered amongst the ears of the Seelie Court, I am in great jeopardy.” Alyx hissed, agitated. “I am a wanted woman.”  
“You are still sought, yes, but-“

“And I wish to remain hidden.” Alyx cut in, drawing back from him again.

“Stay.” He pleaded.

“No…” Alyx replied, softly. “You will never see me again, Dymek.”

“Were you this cruel to him? The Goblin Prince?” Dymek responded, angrily. “Did you shun him just as easily?”

In an instant, he was against the wall, her forearm against his throat. No longer was she in the beautiful gold dress, but now back in her duster and muffler. Her eyes narrowed as he gasped for air.

“Ready my mounts.” She replied, curtly. “The dwarf and I ride… _Now_.”

Within twenty minutes a pair of horses thundered out from the gates of the castle, crossing the dunes in the pale moonlight. Dymek watched them from his tower, rubbing at his bruised neck and pondering the Dragonslayer that had just denied him.


	9. Time Moves Differently Here

Winter arrived to the Underground quite suddenly, and with the changing of the seasons came a storm so fierce that even parts of the scorching sands of the Dragon Wastes glistened with frost in its wake. The howling north winds turned the Enchanted Wood into a forest of ice and a thick cover of snow blanketed the Labyrinth. The lights of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City could barely be seen, twinkling through the continuing snowfall and Jareth was virtually invisible where he stood on his balcony, surveying his kingdom.

The Goblin King smiled, peacefully, looking out over his domain. Many did not see the Labyrinth in its mighty splendor, as he did at this very moment. Most only saw the many bits of chaos that made the Labyrinth a whole splendid wonder. His kingdom was a slumbering giant. A forceful enigma. A-

Then, from somewhere in the distance, came the sounds of breaking glass and a small explosion. Jareth frowned as a dark cloud of smoke began to curl up from within the Labyrinth, marring the white of the snow.

Uh… King? KIIINNNGGG…” A tiny goblin voice called out across the distance. “We had an accident!”

“Oh, bother…” Jareth groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the coming headache. He had apparently put too much trust in his people for the holidays. It had been a peaceful start to the Yuletide season, but Goblins will be Goblins and now part of his Labyrinth was on fire. He transported to the scene of the ‘accident’ and put on his best fearsome scowl. Staring at a gaggle of soot covered goblins, his frown grew. All he could see were their wide eyes staring up at him in fear and the remains of his once beautiful Glass Maze behind them.

The Glass Maze had been a coronation gift from Queen Allerleirauh VIII, Queen of the Forest Court, before her passing into the shady veil. Queen Allerleirauh VIII, affectingly know as Allie to all those who were her kin and friends, was Jareth’s great-great-great-great… something or other on his mother’s side and the grandest lady Jareth had had the privilege of knowing. She had been a mortal princess once and legends still remained in the Above about her. Though she had been blessed with immortality centuries before he had been born, there came a day when she faded away. The magic of her court had began to wane and so did the Queen with it. Very few mortals believed in fairy tales these days and unfortunately the Forest Court thrived on that belief and the wild magic that was inherent to all Halflings. Without those, the Halfling Court fell to a slumber, and Queen Allie disappeared into the winds. His thoughts drifted to her before the end…

_Queen Allie kept to her own business with her people and was not known to spend much time amongst the courtiers of Merial. Rather than waste her precious moments on them, the aging queen kept to her beloved Enchanted Wood to hold court with the forest folk under her care there. So, when the Halfling Queen was absent at Jareth’s grand coronation, it did not surprise him the least. She loathed the pomp and circumstance of Court and the fools that came along with it._

_ Therefore in turn, the newly crowned Goblin King was more than a little shocked when the Forest Queen paid him an unannounced visit in his own kingdom mere days after his coronation. Even though, Queen Allie was always more than welcome in his realm with or without an invitation as he held her in the highest respect and considered her one of his closest confidantes. Like the most loving of Aunts, serene and smiling Allie had always been quite involved in his life since his birth. Like most of the Goblin Royalty, Jareth had been born in her Enchanted Wood, specifically in the gypsy town of Wesh and the Queen had assisted in his delivery. Dear Allie had always been close to hear out his grievances with a fair ear or to congratulate the young royal on his many accomplishments._

_ Jareth had only just returned from his first official summons as Goblin King, when his valet informed him that Queen Allerleirauh had come, seeking an audience with him. The valet also informed his sovereign that the Queen had been waiting on his return for over six hours. Even though Jareth was mentally and physically taxed from spending the last thirteen hours overseeing a particularly nasty au pair, who divided her time between snarling vulgar obscenities at him in French and trying to hit him with one of her expensive heeled shoes, he proceeded to greet his old friend. _

_ In her wait, Queen Allie had taken up residence in his private gardens. When he found her, she was seated in the grass with what must have been every goblin in his kingdom gathered all around her around her, rapt with her words. Allie was at the climax of a rather animated story about a badger and an imp so no one noticed his arrival. A smile crept onto his weary face as he watched her make wild gestures with her arms that sent his goblins into near hysterical laughter. The Forest Queen was rather good with the dull-witted little miscreants. For a moment, he paused, taking her in. _

_ Allerleirauh’s hair was as golden as the very sunlight that shone down upon it and hung down her back in a messy plait. The flaxen locks were dotted with twigs and leaves and Jareth knew she had been playing in the forests amongst her people before she came here today. Not one to overdress, she wore a simple green dress that was torn from snagging on brambles and smudged with dried mud from impromptu creek wading. Her tiny feet were bared and dusty from her travels. Jareth noticed faint purple stains on her fingertips and he knew at once that she had been sampling wild berries, fresh from the vine. Such was the Queen of the Forest Court. _

_ As she finished her tale, she saw him approaching and a bright smile crossed her face._

_ “Oh, congratulations, my darling boy!” Allie quickly rose and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “You shall make a splendid King!”_

_ “If you believe so then where were you hiding when they crowned me?” He sported a fake frown. “You missed my coronation, Auntie…”_

_ “Oh, you know I’ve never been one for such nonsense and ceremony. I prefer to be in my Wood with my fairies. Besides, I’ve brought you a gift to make up for my absence!” _

_ “Oh, did you now? Resorting to flashy gifts to appease the spoilt nephew-who-would-be-king?” Jareth teased and raised one eyebrow. “Is it a pony?”_

_ “No, something much more practical for a King such as yourself.” Allie took his hand and his world shifted as she transported them into the southern reaches of his Labyrinth. Upon their arrival, she threw out her arms and yelled. “Tada!”_

_ Jareth’s eyes widened as he took in the view before them. She had turned a formerly barren expanse of the maze that made up his Kingdom into a glorious construction, molded of large jagged panes of almost crystal clear blown glass. _

_ “Allie… It’s beautiful!” The young Goblin King gaped as he rested one gloved hand on the wall before him. “Bu-“_

_ “I knew you’d like it.” Allie smirked. “Your mother suggested that I use mirrors, but I didn’t want to give your vain ego any more help than it needed.”_

_ “It is too much! You should not have gone to so much trouble-“_

_ “Oh hush… Besides, this is only to ‘grease the wheels’ as the mortal’s say… I have a need that I must ask of you, young Goblin King. A special favor for your Auntie Allie.”_

_ “Of course! If it is within my power then I would do anything you ask of me!” Jareth returned his attention to her, worried for her. “You need but only name it.”_

_ Allie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Someday, dear heart, I will not be of this world anymore and sweet Danu chose not to bless me with an heir for my throne. There is no son to rule in my stead or daughter to give my name. The line of the Allerleirauh’s ends with me and I’ll not be Sovereign of the Forest Court forever.”_

_ “Now, Allie-“ _

_ She cut him off with the wave of her hand. “There is no point in arguing with me, my dear boy. Already, deep within my Court, there begins a slumber, but I have no one to guard its treasures. I need someone to protect my people, my heirlooms, and my throne.”_

_ “Allie-“_

_ She ignored him. “You are sovereign of your own domain, but I need you to guard over mine as it slumbers. Absorb my Court to yours and care for my people as one last gift to your Auntie?”_

_ “You are in splendid health!” Jareth protested, a little fearfully. “You-“_

_ “I am not long for this world, dearest heart.” She paused and gave him a long hard look. “I have named your brother as my heir apparent.””_

_ Jareth was shocked. “Jaron? But he is merely a child!“_

_ “Oh, I shall never live see him sit upon my throne.” Allie waved one hand, dismissively and plucked a cocklebur from her gown. “It shall be long after I am gone that little Jaron awakens my Court and sits upon my throne as Halfling King.”_

_ “Jaron?” It was Jareth’s turn to scoff. “The boy spends more time in mud holes with the goblins and hanging in trees with fairies than he does learning a single lesson an-!”_

_ “Exactly. He is the first Halfling born in the Underground in centuries, Jareth. Only a Halfling can wear the crown of the Forest Court and there is no other I would be prouder to pass my kingdom to.” Allie smiled, cryptically. “As all children of the Sindhe family, your brother is destined for greatness… Any fool could see that.” _

_ “It was only last week that mother had to stop my dearest brother from running away with the gypsies. The little fool was nearly halfway to Wesh on my best war mount when we caught up to him and he had only packed his teddy bear and a jar of peach jam.” Jareth sighed at the memory. “When she reprimanded him, he blamed the entire fiasco on that troublesome sprite, Trog, and demanded that we let him ride on.” _

_ “Oh, what a little spitfire!” Allie erupted in laughter and it caused even Jareth to smile a little at his young brother’s antics._

_ “Exactly, Allie. He is unpredictable! He shares his father’s famous Irish temper and he never thinks anything he does through. That is no way for a future king to behave.”_

_ “You will not change my mind, Jareth.”_

_ “Have you consulted Grandfather? Or any of your personal advisors on this matter?”_

_ “Meh. They all agree with you!” Allie waved a dismissive hand, the movement alighting butterflies all around her. “Morgan le Fey claims I’ve gone loony an’ demands I be imprisoned in a tower.”_

_ “Honestly, I can see why.”_

_ Allie replied, firmly. “You’ve seen how my Court reacts to his wild magic. It has flourished since his birth there… He shall make you very proud of him someday, Jareth.” _

_ “I am not ashamed of my Halfling brother, if that’s what you are implying.” Jareth returned, dryly. _

_ “No… You do not understand why he is so different from you. You do not understand his mortal blood and why it makes him do what he does. The Fae do not understand us mortals. That is why we fascinate them so. It is okay to not understand your little brother. He is a complicated little devil.” _

_ “Well, it is rather difficult to study and understand something that doesn’t hold still for more than five seconds and refuses to speak in anything but base born Goblinese.” Jareth took a deep sigh and nodded. “I’ll not fight your decision, Allie. If Jaron is to be your heir, then so be it. I shall protect your lands and people until such a time. If that is your wish, my dear Allie, then consider it done.” _

_ She smiled and patted his lean cheek, lovingly. “You are a good boy, Jareth. You shall make a wonderful king yourself… Especially if you keep such good behavior up.”_

_ “That remains to be seen.” Jareth replied, rather dryly. “I have not even sat upon the Goblin Throne for a week and I feel that I have already taken on much more than I can handle.”_

_ She patted his hand and repeated, firmly. “You shall make a wonderful king. You have much of your father in you. He would be very proud of you.”_

_ “I could only hope so, Auntie.” Jareth offered his arm. “Could I tempt you with a cup of tear before you depart?” _

_ Allie laughed and for a brief moment her age faded. “Not today, dear heart. I’m off to follow the cool south wind to Honah Lee and dance in every fairy circle along the way! It will be Christmas soon and I so love the festive lights of Honah Lee.” _

_ She pecked him on his cheek, standing on her tiptoes to do so and turned to venture out of his Labyrinth and southwards. Immediately, garden fairies began to flock about her and a charm of humming birds gathered to feed from the bright purple morning glories that grew in her wake._

A small snuffling sound snapped him to the present and he glared at the blackened goblins before him. They were a rather pathetic sight. A few still had embers glowing atop what was a full head of hair and many had lost nearly all their clothing to the blaze.

”Where is Pigle?” Jareth asked, firmly.

There was a short amount of clamoring and shoving before the group shoved one especially sooty goblin front and center. With shaking hands the tiny creature removed his saucepan helmet and swallowed, hard. “Hello King.”

“Good evening, Pigle. You know, I couldn’t help but notice that you fine fellows decided to take it upon yourselves to redecorate this edge of my Labyrinth. Seeing as how, I do not remember signing any construction decrees and no one told me of such plans, I suspect it to be a birthday surprise in my honor.”

“Uh…”

“But, then I remember that it is not my birthday and it leads me to the conclusion that this was not redecoration, but some sort of terrible accident on your part. Care to enlighten me as to why my once illustrious glass maze is ruined?”

“Uh, fireworks?”

“And where in all of the Underground did you louts find _fireworks?_ And having said fireworks, _why_, in the name of Danu, did you see it fit to light them _in_ the glass maze?” 

“Uh, Happy Yuletide?”

Again, Jareth groaned.

“Jackie Frost gave them to us!” One little goblin shouted from the back, only to be pummeled by those nearest to him.

Jareth frowned and eyed the frost decorating the little bit of the mirror maze that still stood. That little snipe had had it in for the Goblin King for years. Of course, since Jaron was absent, any shenanigan committed around the Yule was surely the work of the deviant Jack Frost.

“Come now, Jareth, you can’t say you don’t miss my jokes.” A smooth voice chuckled from beside him and the already chilled air dropped a few degrees. “Especially in these dark times.”

“Even you, Jackie, know the destructive combination of gunpowder, glass, and goblins.” Jareth replied, dryly. “If it was so important for you to encourage the little pyromaniacs, then you could have at least let them set fire to the Bog and not my glass maze.”

Jackie Frost gave the Goblin King an innocent smile. He had also been one of Allie’s favorite courtiers. The elf was nearly as old as Jareth, but looked to be only a teenager in mortal years. His hair was as white as the frost that flew from his finger tips and hung in long dreadlocks round his face. Even his smooth skin that held a blue tint, but Jackie had never felt the cold.

“I didn’t tell them to set it off here.” Jackie retorted, smugly. “I suggested the throne room.”

“As much as I love your yearly traipse through my domain, I am in no mood for any games this year.” Jareth waved one hand at his maze and it slowly returned to its former glory. “Good evening, Jack Frost.”

Jareth turned to leave and Jack frowned.

“Hey, I didn’t just bring fireworks!” Jack ran to catch up with the retreating Goblin King. “I got news! I’ve been down South ‘round Wyntr’s place and she said an elf slayed Unwin!”

Jareth paused and gave the elf a quizzical look. “An elf? Are you sure?”

“Cross my frosty little heart and hope to die.” Jack crossed an X over his chest. “An elf has slain Unwin the Mad.”

“By the Gods, Dymek’s dragon slayer came through then.” Jareth mused, surprised. “That is some good news then.”

Jack nodded, vigorously. “I have already blanketed the Dragon Spine in celebration.”

“And now I am the lucky recipient of your undivided attention?”

“You are far too gloomy these holidays, Jareth.” Jack pouted.

“I’m not in much of a festive mood, Jack. Perhaps you’ll find better company in Merial or Goodfellow Glen?”

“Fine, fine… I can take a hint Jareth. I’ve work to be done tonight, anyways.” Jack gave him a sideways glance. “Since you aren’t so jolly. I’d steer clear of any part of the Endless Corridor… It’s rigged to blow like a volcano.”

* * *

Pulling the hood of her fur-lined cloak closer around her head, Sarah held a firm grip on the reigns to the small sleigh she drove home to Wyntr’s keep. The simple sleigh was the alchemist’s own and tonight it was being pulled by the biggest white stag Sarah had ever seen. When Sarah announced her intentions of traveling into town for the Yuletide festivities, Wyntr had produced the sleigh from the stables. After giving a shrill whistle, the magnificent stag appeared from the golden forests and allowed him self to be hitched. Wyntr pet the creature, fondly.

“He may be just an old stag, but Herot is a doll. He’ll take ya into town.”

At first the ride had frightened Sarah because of how fast the sleigh traveled, but she soon got used to sliding through the snow. The townsfolk were all too happy to see her and she spent many hours enjoying the festivities. She soon discovered that they had more reason to celebrate than a simple holiday for an elf had slain Unwin outside of Taureg. She breathed a sigh of relief at the news, but thought little else of it all day. Upon her return to the keep that evening, she was surprised to find a fully decorated Christmas tree in Wyntr’s laboratory. Ashe was curled up at the bottom amongst a few brightly wrapped gifts. Alyx smiled, warmly at Wyntr’s gesture for the holidays.

“Ya like it then?” Wyntr asked from her work bench where she was working on an ornate clock.

“It’s beautiful, Wyntr. Merry Christmas.”

Wyntr grunted and waved her screwdriver in the direction of the tree. “I got you a few pretties for the holidays. Nothing much, but a few useful books and a new dress or two.”

Sarah brightened. “I made you-“

“An apple tart. I found it in the kitchen.” Wyntr smirked. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Sarah laughed and sat across from her. “Beechus told me that an elf has slain Unwin.”

“Oh? An elf? That’s odd.”

Sarah traced a pattern on the table with one finger nail. “So, I guess that means that we’ll have to give Jareth back his key, huh?” 

Wyntr snorted. “Not unless he asks for it. Hand me them gears.” Sarah did as the alchemist asked and Wyntr wiggled the cogs into place. “I like having a back way into the Goblin City. ‘Sides it’s not _his_ key. It’s Jaron’s.”

“Oh… From his Coat of Keys, right?”

“Aye. It’s part of his inheritance from Queen Allerleirauh VIII. That coat, a few other nice baubles, and the entirety of the Forest Court, if it hadn’t died all those years ago.” Wyntr smiled in satisfaction as the clock before her began to tick and the little cuckoo bird popped in and out.

“But I thought Jaron was third in line for the Goblin Throne?” Sarah asked, confused.

“Yeah, but, technically, he’s in line for Halfling the Forest Court at Allerleirauh before that… Allie named him heir apparent before she passed. Not a one of us thought it the wisest decision at the time, but the Sovereign must be of Halfling blood and the boy was the only one.” Wyntr scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Then he grew up and has not one bit o’ interest in being king of anything… ‘Cept fools maybe.”

“Then why isn’t he ruling the Forest Court?”

“Well for one thing, them fountains ‘aven’t flowed for ‘im yet. They all dried up when Queen Allerleirauh died an’ they won’t flow again ‘til the wild magic accepts him as heir of the Forest Court. The wild magic runs that Court an’ the wild magic is picky ‘bout who it blesses…” Wyntr rose and stretched her stiff back. “Enough history lessons for tonight. Come… Treffun is making us some stew for supper and I got a bottle of wine I’ve been saving. Let’s go to the kitchen and have ourselves a nice little Yuletide.”

* * *

South, as the crow flies from Taureg, was Naga Coast, the desert city upon the sea. Deep within the city, the Goblin Prince fought for his life in the coliseum. All around him, the Unseelie screamed for his blood as he was beaten and mangled for their enjoyment. Blood flowed freely from his many wounds, and his head grew foggier with each blow. Grasping him around the neck, the troll threw him against a wall with all his might and Jaron slumped to the ground. Producing a pair of whips, the troll gave out a great roar and cracked each whip. The fallen Prince stared up at the great beast through his blood soaked hair. Jaron spat out a mouthful of blood to one side as a whip sliced through the air and headed for his face. Jaron snarled, raising one forearm to block the whip and it curled around his arm. Giving it a tug and grasping it with his other hand, Jaron dug his heels into the dirt and jerked the whip free from the surprised troll’s grasp. Jaron gave it a mighty crack and slung it towards the troll’s last whip wielding arm. The beast screamed in pain and dropped his whip as Jaron struck with the whip again, this time taking a chunk of the troll’s face. The crowd hissed and booed as the Goblin Prince began to win over the troll. Jaron ignored their cries and gritted his teeth.

He ran up the nearest wall, and vaulted himself onto the troll’s back. He wrapped the whip around the creature’s neck and began to squeeze. The creature gurgled in pain and slammed its back against the wall, hoping to dislodge the Goblin Prince. Jaron only tightened the whip and slowly the troll collapsed into unconsciousness. He tumbled from the beast’s back and planted one fist against the ground to steady his landing. Staggering away from the creature’s foul remains, Jaron cast a harsh gaze at Mab as she watched from her throne, high above the other spectators. She would keep him here for weeks if she made her mind so. As far as he was, he could both feel and see her disgust for his triumph. Turning to the Naga Queen at her right, Mab gave the order and Jaron was soon surrounded by the serpentine guards. Slowly, the whip fell from his fingertips and he surrendered to their chains. They marched him from the arena and deep into the dungeons of the Naga Queen, Naamah Takshak’s castle. From levels high above, Jaron could hear the unholy roar of the Sluagh as it made its way into the dark night. A smirk crossed his bloody face. Even the evil Queen could not stand the sight of him this night.

As he was led from the arena and down the dark halls, Queen Naamah joined the troupe of guards escorting him to he dungeons. She wore a pair of wickedly curved blades at her waist. The blade of each had been treated with Toxie venom. Toxies were a particularly nasty sort of venomous dragon. Large doses of the venom caused massive organ failure and severe pain until your veins exploded. Smaller doses, like those worked into her blades, caused an unbearable pain caused by all of your veins swelling for hours. She called the blades Purujit’s Fangs. Jaron was already very familiar with their bite, so when they chained his arms above him and left him to hang so the Naga Queen could carve at him like a piece of meat, he felt no surprise.

Hours later, he was dragged to his tower cell, a trail of blood marking his wake. They carried him to the highest tower of the castle. The Daemon Spindle. It was there that they hoped the sandy winds of the desert would drive him mad. Little did they know that the Goblin Prince was long past insane. He eased his broken and bruised body to the barred window that faced to the north. Wrapping one bloody hand around the bars, a slight smile came to his face. Far across the sea, he could make out the twinkling lights of Honah Lee. He had counted the days religiously.

“Merry Yuletide.” He whispered in the dark and began to hum a holiday tune to himself in the dark.

* * *

Though her heart wished for the south, Alyx rode for the north and Quigli followed. He asked no questions about their hasty exit from Taureg, guessing it was her past running them away. They rode hard and in less than a week, they found themselves outside Nidaveller, the dwarfish mining town nestled in the last bit of of the Dragon’s Spine before it ebbed into the much smaller hills of The Mounds. Nidaveller was almost entirely inhabited by dwarves and sat atop the most bountiful jewel mines in all of the Underground. Because of this, the town was legendary for its trade in jewels and jewelry. 

Quigli had bragged of family that would host them for a night or three and the fine time to be had there. They had long left the sandy heat of the deserts and now faced the snow and cold of the mountains. The horses trudged through drifts reaching nearly to their chests as the lights of the town flickered in the distance. They had been riding in these conditions for the last 24 hours, and Alyx was exhausted. Her shoes had been wiser than she, and adorned her in a thick wool coat and a matching muffler to keep out the cold, but her fingertips were nearly frozen in their grip on her reigns. They had nearly slid from the side of a precipice on the ice not even two miles back. Alyx was more than ready to get out of the storm.

“Me family’s place is at the edge of town!” Quigli yelled over the howling winds. “Me cousin Baumur runs a wee lil’ pub there.”

“Are we close?” Alyx hollered back.

“There!” Quigli pointed ahead and Alyx saw it was an inn and stables carved into the side of the mountain itself. She could hear lively music, faintly over the howling wind. Quigli marched his pony straight to the stable doors and pounded on them with his meaty fist. Within seconds a sleepy eyed dwarfish stable boy was ushering them into the warmer stables. His eyes widened when Alyx dismounted and he saw that she was no dwarf.

Thumping the boy upside his head, Quigli handed him a gold piece. “Wipe ‘em down and feed ‘em.”

Slinging her pack over one shoulder, Alyx followed Quigli back out into the snow and towards the entrance to the inn and pub. They paused at the door, so Quigli could snub out his cigarette and Alyx frowned as she looked through the wanted posters and bulletins tacked outside.

“What is this slop?” She ripped one down and thrust it towards him.

Quigli peered down to see a rather terrible drawing of Alyx in her Javas disguise. He read it out loud. “Reward of six hundred gold pieces for Elfish Witch Javas of Naga Coast. Wanted in Bavol for fraud. What’s that ‘bout?”

“That looks _nothing_ like I did in Bavol. They got my eyes all wrong.” She snorted and crumpled it up.

“Oh, an’ when be the last time ya were in Bavol?”

“Before Morven got turned into a goat…”

“Ayup… an’ what did you do?”

She frowned again. “Well, I sold some potions that weren’t _exactly_ what I told the guy they were.”

Quigli cocked an eyebrow. “Not _exactly_?”

“He thought that it was beauty potion and it was actually a… well…”

“A what?”

She chuckled. “It was a hair growth potion. If he drank it all, like I know the dumb bastard did, then he must look like a werewolf by now.”

Quigli guffawed. “Well, best not use that disguise anymore, just to be on the safer side.”

As they entered the pub, Alyx cursed as she nearly hit her head on the low doorframe, and ducked to enter the pub. A lively band was in full swing and it looked as if nearly half the town had braved the blizzard to drink and carouse. Upon entering a dwarfish barmaid gave them both a wide grin and shifted her full tray from one hand to another.

“Well, look what the blizzard blew in! Best hide your best schnapps, Baumur! Yer cousin’s come callin’!” The barmaid cackled and moved on.

The stocky blonde dwarf behind the bar let out a hoot and rushed towards Quigli. “May the good Gods bless me! If it ain’t the sea-farin’ cousin. How’s the tides, Mr. Quigli?”

“Low this season, Baumur.” Quigli laughed, shaking his hand, warmly, and clapping him on the back. “That’s why I be so far inland.”

Baumur lowered his voice and focused his steel eyes on his cousin. “’Tis dangerous times for adventures… You ‘eard of Unwin in-“

“He’s been slain.” Quigli grunted. “We was in Taureg when it happened.”

“Oh? Then you have some gossip to share?” Baumur’s eyes rested on Alyx, who had lowered her muffler and adjusted her scar and tattoo glamour. “Who’s yer friend?”

“Baumur, this is Anuerin of the Genkis. Anuerin, this is Baumur Brassbottom, me third cousin on me mother’s side.”

“Never known you to be one to run with elves, Quigli! ‘Specialy those of the Genki sort.” Baumur laughed and shook Alyx’s hand, heartily. “At any rate, any friend of Quigli’s is a friend of mine. Come on the pair of ya. I got a bottle in me office that’s been fermenting for just such an occasion.”

Alyx followed the dwarves across the bar, aware that all eyes were on her, the tall stranger. As they passed the bar, a scantily clad dwarfish woman caught Alyx’s coat sleeve and grinned. “’Ello, lovey. Them other girls might be afraid of a tumble with a giant, but I’d be _thrilled_ to warm yer bedside.”

Alyx frowned and shot Quigli a dirty look as she realized that this was also a whorehouse. She returned her gaze to the overly made-up woman. “As flattered as I be, dear lady, I’ve business to attend. Me sincerest apologies.” Alyx gave a short bow and resumed following the dwarves in front of her. Once safe in the office, she thumped Quigli upside the back of his head. “Oy, dunderhead. Next time warn me when we’re hangin’ out in a whorehouse, huh?”

“Well, what did you expect it to be with a name like The Fox and the Harlot?” Quigli snickered and made himself comfortable at a chair next to the fire. ”Ain’t my fault them whores think yer _cute_.”

Baumur handed each of them a tumbler full of whiskey and chuckled. “Is your friend a bit green, cousin?”

“Nah, he’s just mouthy an’ cold. He’ll warm up in a bit. ‘Specially if ya got any honeysuckle in yer larder.”

Baumur handed Alyx her tumbler and grinned. “And it is! Only the best from Gammon’s for us tonight, lads.”

Alyx downed her tumbler, thankful for the warmth it spread through her. As she moved to study the books upon the shelves, Baumur made himself comfortable near the fire and began to grill Quigli about Taureg and the death of Unwin the Mad. Alyx managed to ignore most of the talk, until Baumur added his own bit to the gossip.

“Well, they say it was a woman who slayed the beast.”

Alyx spun around her eyes narrowed. “Who said?”

“Them fairies… Nosy busybodies that they are… They’ve been spreading ‘round the whole Spine that Aleydis the Fierce was a woman in disguise. Said she spurned the Prince of Taureg too. Donna suppose the pair of ya know anything about that?”

“Nah… We was so drunk in the Bubblin’ Brew we dinna know the city was under siege until the party started after.” Quigli lied.

Baumur chuckled and studied his glass. “Them fairies are sayin’ it’s that girl… The Girl Who Loved the Goblin Prince.”

“Bah, rubbish.” Quigli snorted. “That gal be long gone for this world.”

“People say she’s been poppin’ up from time to time.” Baumur began to load his pipe, thoughtfully. “Few years back a faun from Thaw swore it was she who staged the massive breakout in Bergtroll’s dungeon. I heard a Glaistig from the Enchanted Wood say she saw her picking poison ivy there, an’ a goblin from the Goblin City said she kidnapped an elfish girl in Trader’s Post. There’s been a lot of whispers about her.”  
“Hmph… Sounds like fairy tales to me, bucko.” Quigli took the offered pipe from Baumur and toked deep.

“So what brings you so far inland? And through such dangerous lands?”

“Eh, the ship rat’s life weren’t payin’ me debts so we be doin’ a bit o’ free lancin’. We be on our way north lookin’ fer work.”

“Then take the Spine to the Mounds and follow the Arve River north. Steer clear of Darkwood Copse and anything Unseelie.” Baumur warned. “These are bad times we are livin’ in, cousin.”

“Bah! Travelin’ them mountains be for brumbies! We’ll take the longer ways. ‘Round the Labyrinth, then.”

“King Jareth won’t be fond of strangers either, Quigli.” Alyx warned as she finally sat and joined the pair at the fire.

“Then we be damned.” Quigli grunted. “We might as well head back to the bloody ship.”

Baumur offered the pipe to Alyx. “Goodfellow Glen… Go to the Traveller’s Gate. Best for fast travel any day.”

“The Traveler’s Gate?” Alyx asked, curious.

Baumur shot her a look. ”Fresh off the island there, son?”

“A bit.” Alyx lied.

“The Traveler’s Gate be an old stone archway outside of Goodfellow Glen.” Quigli explained. “It be enchanted though. When ya pass through it, ya instantly go to the city ya think of. It be one of the few magic gates left in the whole Under.”

“Sounds perfect. How long will it take to get there?” Alyx asked, patting at her pockets for her maps.

“Slow yer horses, laddie.” Baumur chuckled. “If I know my cousin, an’ I do, yer both not on the best of terms with the Seelie Guard? That Gate will be crawling with them.”

Alyx frowned. “Damn… Double damn.”

“Indeed.” Quigli took a deep gulp of his drink.

“Well, yer both welcome to stay here as long as ya need.” Baumur offered. “Can’t be ungiving on Christmas, right?”

“It’s Christmas?” Alyx asked, shocked.

“Aye.” Baumur gave her a funny look. ”How long did you say you were at sea?”

‘Far too long, it seems.” Alyx replied, somberly, and turned to stare out into the swirling snows.

* * *

_She was in the Enchanted Forest. She could tell by the way the wind whispered through the trees and the patches of moonlight dotted the forest floor. After wondering down the path before her, she felt a presence nearby. Then she saw him, perched at the base of the nearest tree. It was a young boy, dressed in a tattered pair of brown pants. His dark brown hair hung wild around his face, and bits here and there were dreaded. He looked as if he had been living in the woods for some time as he was smudged with mud here and there and twigs were stuck in his hair. She wondered if he was a sprite or an elf._

_ When he looked up she gasped as she recognized his mismatched eyes of blue and green. Upon seeing her, he took flight, fleeing through the brush._

_ “Jaron!” She cried out and tried to keep up with him in the thick forest. “Jaron!”_

_ Branches slapped her in the face and thorns tore at her dress, but she continued on, chasing the child Jaron. Suddenly, he stopped before her and turned to her with a stern look in his eyes_

_ “Stop. You aren’t safe.”_

Alyx was still shaking like a leaf when she awoke. Sitting up, she gasped for breath and her hands fluttered to her face where the branch had scratched her. Her fingertips came away bloody. Quigli watched her with worried eyes across the fire and relit his pipe. Her mumbles in her sleep had awakened him, so he had sat up to keep an eye on her. The dwarf was worried about her. Ever since she had stepped foot in the Enchanted Wood, her dreams had intensified. Quigli had been born in this Wood, so he knew how powerful the wild magic could be.

The dreams worsened and she often called _his_ name in her sleep. The Goblin Prince. This didn’t worry Quigli as much as the little _gifts_ her dreams left behind. His eyes drifted to the cut on her cheek that had appeared from nowhere. Golden colored feathers a few times appeared a few times, or she’d wake with brambles in her hair. Once there had been jasmine petals in her pallet after she awoke.

She gave him a weary shrug. “Bad dreams.”

“It’s not called the Enchanted Forest fer no reason, lass… It’s magic seeps in and causes ya to be dreamin’ of many things. Sometimes dangerous things.” Quigli warned. “There be an old, wild magic here.”

They hadn’t stayed very long with his cousin, but merely waited for the worst of the snowstorm to pass. Already whispers had started in the dwarfish town about the mysterious elf and that alone set Alyx on edge. Though there was danger of running into Seelie Guards, they decided to make their way to the Traveler’s Gate and use it to go north. This meant a lot of travel through the Enchanted Wood. Tonight they had bedded down in a dry cave that Quigli had barely spotted in the snow.

“How close are we to Allerleirauh?” Alyx asked, absently, dabbing her sleeve against the cut upon her cheek.

“Not very…” Quigli eyed her wound again. It was fairly shallow, merely a scratch, but worrisome none the less. “Why?”

“Bad dreams.” Alyx shook her head and hugged her knees. “Just bad dreams, Quigli.”

Quigli grunted. “I’ve been thinkin’, lass… Maybe it’s high time we return to the sea.”

“No.” Alyx replied, firmly. “I will not return to the Merrow Wind with you. Besides, I’d think Morven would rather not see me after our last row.”

“An’ how the bloody hell would ya know what that bilge rat wants?”  
“He’s angry with me.”

“Oh, aye an’ he’ll get over it.” Quigli replied, hotly. “An’ you need to as well! Ya both can’t be lettin’ some idiotic squabblin’ get between the pair of ya! Why, I’ll bet-”

Alyx stopped him. “I’m not going back. End of story.”

“Just sleep on it a bit, lass?” Quigli asked, sincerely worried about her. “Come mornin’, you’ll see that it ain’t such a bad idea.”

Alyx gave a noncommittal shrug and turned over to return to sleep.

It was that night, after all their weeks of travels and adventures together, that Alyx disappeared in the dead of night. The little sneak had waited until he was fast asleep and gathered her possessions to disappear into the night. When he awoke next to the embers of their fire, not a trace of the girl was left, save his share of the bounty on Unwin and a few faint tracks in the snow. Her rapidly disappearing trail headed towards Goodfellow Glen and the Traveler’s Gate. Quigli sat on a rock outside of the cave until well past lunch, hoping she would change her mind and return, but there was no sign of her. Slowly, and rather sadly, he packed away his things and loaded his gear on top his little brumbie pony.

He gave one last long look towards Goodfellow Glen and sighed.

“Good luck out there lass.”

With that, he turned his pony south and towards the coast.

* * *

After slipping away while Quigli slumbered, Alyx rode hard to reach the Gate in just two days time. Baumer had been correct when he warned her of the Seelie Guards that patrolled the gate, but her shoes made short work of any suspicion roused about her. When she rode her horse through the Traveler’s Gate and wished to be in Fin Bheara, all the Seelie Guard’s saw was a hunched old grandmother, traveling north to see her kin. Since awakening with the scratch from her dreams, Alyx knew that it was time for her to get out of the Enchanted Wood. It always seemed to magnify whatever connection she and Jaron still shared, but she had never been hurt before. It frightened her. She chose Fin Bheara only because someone in Taureg had recommended the town as the best place to hire a worthy weapons blacksmith.

Fin Bheara was a huge city known for its Elfish craftsmanship of any sort, so Alyx found it easy to get her self lost amongst the diverse crowd in any disguise. Within the first two days in the city, she used her reward money for the slaying of Unwin to turn one of his bones into a handle for a finely made short sword. With the bit of the dragon hide, she had the same smith fashion a strong shield. In the week it took for him to fashion her weapons, she slept in the stables and often took turns fanning the great flames that fueled his forge. By the third day, she had met a band of friendly gypsies, who offered to let her join their caravan. The gypsies helped her procure her own vardo and a sturdy draft horse to pull it. Though, she had been accepted into their patchwork family, Alyx maintained some distance from her traveling companions, always fearful that her secret would be found out.

She traveled as a woman and it was a refreshing change. She called herself Deja the Delicate, and her shoes made her appear as tall and as fair-headed as Jareth. Many of the young gypsy men tried their best to woo her, but she always rebutted them with a kind word and a soft smile. Rumors began to circulate that she was a widower, whose heart died with her beloved and that outlandish story suited her just fine. People asked less questions upon hearing such a somber rumor. So, Alyx kept to herself, selling potions and charms and offering healing services from the back of her vardo. Life with the gypsies was peaceful and quiet, and after her first few tense weeks, Alyx stored away most of her weapons and armor, but she kept her new sword always at her waist. It was still a dangerous world that she traveled in. For the next many months, she lived in a sort of peaceful happiness as they traveled in the northern lands. Then something odd happened.

Well, nothing really out of the ordinary happened, but something odd definitely did happen. Her christening ended and she was Fae, but it was slightly anti-climatic. It was not like any Disney movie she had seen where someone was enveloped in white light and glitter or fireworks and sparkles filled the skies. She just felt... different. She felt like she was finally complete and at one with her own magic. As she studied her reflection in the cracked mirror in the privacy of her vardo, she let her glamour fall. Alyx was amazed at how her appearance had changed over these years. She had only aged five years in the while that her christening had taken hold, but the magic to turn her Fae had only made her more beautiful and ethereal than when she was mortal. She had grown a little more willowy and graceful in her body, but she was still quite small for a Fae. Her long hair hung in thick waves down her back and gone were her mortal blue eyes. Now she boasted eyes inked of the brightest silver. Alyx touch one rosy cheek with her finger tips and then poked at her full lips.

“Holy crap.” She muttered a little astounded. 

Well, there was definitely no going back now. She beamed, happily, and hugged herself with glee. It would be a lot harder for anyone to send her back above now that she was immortal. Alyx sunk back into her plush bed with a happy sigh and wiggled her toes. At least something nice had happened to her for once. It gave her a little more hope that even if she didn’t get a happily-ever-after, at least she might find some bit of happiness to fill out her eternity.

“’Course if you weren’t so full of secrets, you could have had that bit of happiness being a pirate.” She muttered to herself. “But no… You had to call the Captain a dunderhead and get yourself kicked off the ship. You always gotta go the hard way, don’t you?”

Exasperated with herself, Alyx blew a lock of hair from her face and crossed her arms over her chest. How was she _ever_ supposed to defeat the powerful Dark Queen of the Unseelie and save the Goblin Prince? She was practically a newborn in the Underground’s standards, even if she did show an aptitude for spells. Her swordplay was her strongest suit to play, but she doubted that she would ever be in a swordfight with the Queen of Air and Darkness. Mab liked to use her Sluagh first and favored exceptionally dark spells for those special close kills. Alyx had been privy to that before.

She propped herself up on one elbow and frowned. No matter what the consequences, she was going to do her damnedest to get Jaron free. She had made that vow and she was sticking too it.

_And you love him_, that little voice inside her head spoke up and Alyx blushed.

“Yes…” Alyx whispered. “I do love him.”

* * *

Jaron struggled in vain against the leather straps that held him down on the table. He had been bad again, attempting another half-brained escape attempt. He had surely known the attempt was doomed from the start, but in his semi-delusional state, he had hoped for the best. He got the worst. Mab had sent him to one of her Dukes. Where Jaron was, he had no clue, but who he was with he knew all to well. The Duke was a wretched twisted little man, whose perpetual sneer and pointed face had always reminded Jaron of a rat. A diseased rat. A diseased, flea bitten, sewer rat. A diseased, flea bitten, sewer rat, whom often smelled like turpentine.

Duke Ulyck, fancied himself a bit of genius and was always finding new and inventive ways to torture in the name of his Dark Queen. He loved traveling to the Above and bringing back innovative material for experiments on his endless supply of patients. Some time back, he had stumbled upon a mental institution in his travels to the Aboveground and was delighted when he first witnessed the use of electric shock therapy upon patients. Despite his lack of modern technology, Ulyck had been able to create his own version of such a device. It was the very device he was preparing to use on Jaron. 

“This, my lad, is lightning in a bottle.” Ulyck smirked as he circled Jaron’s prone and captive form. “Those in the Aboveground like to call it electricity. Of course I have augmented it with magic to suit my _work_.”

His orc assistant forced a stick between Jaron’s teeth as the Duke stepped forward, metal rods in each hand. “We can’t have you biting through your own tongue, now can we? We are always so happy to find such wonderful test subjects as yourself.”

Jaron snarled around the mouth piece and continued his struggles as the orc assistant wet his temples and brow with a sponge.

“Now on a scale of one to ten, how much does this hurt?” The Duke pressed a rod to each of Jaron’s temples.

Jaron’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as pain exploded through his body. His entire body went rigid as wave after wave of electricity shot though him. Ulyck removed the rods and Jaron became limp, his chest heaving and his heart racing.

“I’d say that looked _rather_ painful, but looks can be deceiving.” Ulyck sneered and turned to his assistant. “Turn it up. The Goblin Prince did not even make a peep as such a low setting.”

Again the rods connected with Jaron’s temples and this time the pain had intensified ten times than before. His heart thudded in his chest and his lungs refused to breath as long as the electricity coursed through him. A muffled cry of pain escaped him and Ulyck removed the rods. He leaned down with a smirk.

“Did you say something?”  
Jaron sucked in deep pain filled breaths and he shook his head, madly. The rods touch again and Jaron bit through the stick between his teeth with a bloodcurdling scream. Hot tears coursed from his eyes and he shook uncontrollably until he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

“Curse my rotten luck…”

Alyx had been nearly packed and ready to leave Tir Asleen with the gypsies when a frantic elf had approached and begged for her assistance as a midwife. After assuring the leader of the caravan that she would catch up with them in a few hours, she set off to help the elf. Ten hours later, she was on the road again, far behind her traveling companions and then came a raging storm. Cold rain sluiced down over her from the trees and the muddy and unkempt roads made for slow traveling unless she wanted a broken wheel on the vardo. Huddling under her thick coat and large hat, she shivered and miserably wished for a warm bed. Night had begun to fall, but she had yet to come across a suitable spot to make camp. Though they were enchanted, Alyx knew her lanterns would do very little good in this kind of weather.

Just as she was about to give up and just pull the vardo off into the woods for the night a great bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by an enormous boom of thunder. Her horse shied, but on the heels of Mother Nature’s call, they both heard another, more terrible sound. The sound of a thousand evils was in the air and its approach nearly drowned out the thunder. The Sluagh was riding and it was coming towards them. The horse shied again and reared into the air, while Alyx struggled with the reigns. Cackles filled the air and Alyx could have sworn she felt a cold hand at the back of her neck.

Her horse bolted.

Alyx pulled at the reigns in vain, screaming out orders to the fear-crazed horse. The vardo crashed down the muddy trails as she bounced all over the buckboard. As they hit rut after rut, she heard glass shatter inside the vardo. Suddenly, there was a blind turn before them and the horse tried to make the quick and tight turn. The vardo slid sideways and slammed into a tree, snapping wood and freeing the horse from the vardo. The reigns were jerked from her hands, as the horse fled into the night. The vardo spun again in the slick mud and teetered on the edge of a ravine. As it began to roll, end over end, down the hill, Alyx leapt from the buckboard, striking a small sapling in her escape. The hit knocked all the wind from her lungs and she skidded and rolled down the ravine behind her vardo. At the bottom, she crashed into the rested vardo, hard, and slumped over into the mud.

Groaning in pain, she tried to prop herself up on one elbow, but she couldn’t. Mustering what little strength she had left, she rolled onto her back, the rain washing the blood from her scalp wound. Her weary eyes watched the lightning play across the skies and she lost consciousness.

* * *

Even before she opened her eyes, she knew she was dreaming. Jasmine wafted heavily in the air and fairies sang sweetly all around her. She was lying on her back in long soft grass and the sun twinkled down upon her through the trees. Jaron was lying beside her and their fingers were intertwined.

“Dreaming of me again, love?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

“I thought you were dreaming of me.”

“It’s dangerous… The way we dream…”

Alyx rested her head against his shoulder. “Where are we?”

“Allerleirauh.”

They were silent for a moment, listening to the fairies sing. His hand tightened on hers.

“The last time I dreamt of you, I cut my face in the dream and I woke up bleeding.” Alyx said, softly. “These dreams are real, aren’t they?”

“These are dangerous dreams we share.” His voice was hoarser and it sounded as if he had been crying. “We are traveling somehow. You are not safe.”

“Jaron-“

“Stop dreaming of me. Before something terrible happens.”

His hand disappeared from hers and Alyx’s eyes snapped open. All that was left beside her in the long grass was a few stray golden feathers. Alyx choked back a sob and ran her hands over the place where he once was.

“No, Jaron! You can’t leave me! Please!” She sobbed and beat one fist against the ground. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair-“

Alyx awoke from the dream to someone, gently restraining her, and keeping her down on a thick pallet of furs. She renewed her sleep induced struggles in a foggy panic as she tried to force her eyes to focus.

“Easy, now! Easy lass!” Morven’s soothing voice washed over her. “It’s me! It’s Morven!”

Slowly, Alyx’s eyes focused and she ceased her struggles. A weary and worried Morven sat over her and his fingers brushed over a bandage wrapped around her pounding head.

“Morven?” Alyx croaked, her throat dry and parched.

“Aye, lass. C’mere now and sit up, slowly.” Morven helped prop her up and put a bowl of cool water to her lips. She tried to gulp the water and he batted away her hands. “Slow yer row there. Drink slow or else you’ll make yerself sick an’ I ain’t cleanin’ that up again.”

He set her back upon the pallet and again busied himself with the bandage on her head. “I hope ya dinna pull any of ‘em stitches. Took nearly a whole bottle o’ rum to get up the nerve to take a needle to yer fair skin.”

“My vardo-“

“Demolished. Yer lucky to be alive, kid. I salvaged what I could for ya.” Morven gave her a weary smile. “I’ve been worried sick about you. I set out lookin’ for ya some months back. I figured ya might have got yerself in a bit of trouble an’ I was right.”

Alyx gave a weak laugh. “I was doin’ just fine before you came along.”

“Ayup, I saw. Sprawled out an’ nearly drownin’ in the mud, surrounded by yer own blood, and dead to the world… I think ya got a concussion. You’ve been in and out of it for ‘bout a day or so since I found ya. Yer ribs are bruised, but I donna think ya broke ‘em. I also put ‘bout ten crooked stitchs in yer scalp, an’ ya got one hell of a shiner.” Morven grinned. “Short list is ya look like shit, me bucko.”

“You should have seen me after I slayed the dragon.” Alyx groaned in pain. “What I wouldn’t give for some aspirin…”

Morven gave her a funny look. “I donna know what aspirin is, but I got a bit of fire grass an’ some rum an’ that’s _always_ good for what ails ya. Think you can sit up for a bit?”

She nodded and he helped her to sit up with her back against the wall. He moved to tend the small fire in the fireplace and Alyx took in their haven. It was a small ramshackle hut that Morven had made some quick improvements to make it hospitable for them both. Rain was still beating down outside, but the small fire kept them nice and warm. Morven returned from the fire and sat down next to her. He took a swig from his bottle and handed it to her and she followed suit, wincing at the burn. Lighting his cigarette, he took a casual puff and passed it to her.

“Ya sure be a hard one to follow, kid. Sneaky as sin too! Not long after ya disappeared on ol’ Quigli near Goodfellow Glen, I met up with the little deserter as he made his way to the coast. He told me ya probably used the Gate and headed somewheres north, so I did too. I almost caught up with ya ‘fore ya left Fin Bheara, but I lost ya again ‘til ‘bout three days ago. I met me a band of gypsies in Arlea, who were a bit to worried ‘bout their healer, who had stayed behind to tend to an elf in labor. I figured it be the best lead I had at the time, so I told ‘em I’d keep my eyes open on the road an’ I headed north to find ya.” After she had smoked, Morven took back the cigarette and continued, somberly. “I found yer horse dead up the road and then came across the crashed vardo. When I found ya in the mud, I thought ya to be dead. Ya damn neared scared me into the shady veil, kiddo!”

He put a gentle arm around her shoulder. “Listen… If I was to say somethin’ apologetic-“

“I’m sorry, Morven. I shouldn’t have left like I did, but I _had_ to! I had to!” She leaned into his hug, tears in his eyes. “If I didn’t try-“

“Ya donna ‘ave to explain it to me, lass. Yer story is yer own. I shoulda’ helped ya, not called ya a fool and ran ya off me ship. Quigli said ya did a fine job against that dragon. I’m proud of ya, lass! Yer quite the hero these days.”

“If only, Morven… If only…” She wiped eyes with her sleeve and sniffled. I still feel like a lost little kid most days.”

“Eh, we’re all a little lost now an’ again, mate. An’ what’s eternity without a lil’ bot o’ adventure?”

Within a few days, the Captain pronounced her fit to ride, so they left the shack. Sometimes riding together on his horse, others him walking and her astride, they made their way southwards. When they got to Arlea, Morven found another mount and it was then that they began to make decent time towards the sea. This was also about the time that they traversed Darkwood Copse and neither of the pair wanted to spend much time under its dark canopy. They rode south of Still Lake and far from Magesblood, making record time to the Mounds. After passing the worst of their trip, Morven wanted to take their time returning to the coast, worried for her health, but the girl seemed sick of the mainland and pushed them on at their harried pace to Junction City. Once there, Morven sold their horses and booked them on a barge that would take them down the North Twin River and to Eniah, the port at the Emerald Sea. He sent a messenger ahead to the ship to make sure the vessel was there to meet them in Eniah before the week’s end.

When Alyx dragged her weary form upon the Merrow Wind, both Krollin and Quigli were more than happy to see her. The entire night was spent with the foursome in Morven’s quarters, drinking and swapping stories. Earlier than she would have liked the next morning, the ship set sail, shortly after dawn. The pirates headed south for a trip through the outlying islands, hoping to find a few exotics worth trading at the mainland. It made Alyx happy to return to the sea with her friends, but her heart still longed for the captive Prince somewhere on the mainland. Despite her saddened heart, her time flew by on the ship. Since her healing skills had advanced, she often tended to injured crewmates. There was many a night that she had to splint bones or healed a bevy of various wounds, but there was always time for drinks and cards at the end of the evening. That was how she spent the next many, many months, roaming the seas and healing pirates. It was almost like home.

Yo ho, Yo ho…

* * *

Jareth stood on his balcony, his legs shoulder width apart and his arms crossed over his chest. Had it not been for the full moon shining overhead and illuminating his already brilliant hair and the fair and sharp planes of his face, he could have blended into the shadows of the castle. He wore black from his neck to his feet, and even the tips of his hair had been dyed to match. His lips drew from their thin line into an almost sneer as a sharp wind from the north, whipped around him. He could smell his brother’s pain on the wind and he knew that such a breeze was likely sent on a dark purpose. A chill ran down his spine and for the first time in a century, gooseflesh raised on his arms. The wind increased and a storm rumbled from the north, the clouds swelling and darkening as it approached the city. Somewhere, down in the Goblin City, he could hear a goblin baby begin to wail, as if it too, was shaken by this foul wind.

Jareth snarled, openly to the northern storm as it bubbled his way. He was not one to be intimidated by anyone. Not even half-crazed Dark Queens. His mismatched eyes flashed the reflection of the coming lightning, and the thunder boomed loud enough to rattle the castle. Jareth could hear her cackles behind the thunder and it infuriated him.

“_A gift…_” the wind whispered, cattily, in his ears and he nearly blanched when the wind began to smell of blood.

Fresh blood.

Then came the rain and that was when Jareth nearly doubled over, bile rising in the back of his throat as the first drop struck him above his blue eye. The drop was wine-red and stained his eyebrow immediately. The rain became a torrent and drenched him in blood. Screams began to sound through out the city. Jareth staggered back into his room, gasping and fighting the urge to heave up the remnants of his late supper. 

“Oh dear gods, Master Jareth!” Abby shrieked and raced to his side. She had only just entered the room, after lugging that blasted tea tray up all those stairs, and was just about to set out his tea when Jareth had staggered into the room. She searched him frantically for the wound causing so much blood, and oddly trying to wrap him in her apron.

He held out one hand to still her, swallowing his breaths in deep gulps and his eyes wide and white against the blood streaking his face. “I- I am… I’m not hurt… The rain-“ He let go his last deep breath slowly. “It’s raining blood.“

Abby’s eyes widened and she looked down at the crimson staining her hands. Her voice was choked and low. “Oh, sweet Danu…”

Thunder rolled again and Jareth sneered at the cackles that came along with it. He hissed. “You’ll not sully my lands or my heart with your dark magic, _witch_!”

He threw out his left arm and a crystal flew from his fingertips and out over the Goblin City. There was a bright flash of light as it exploded like the grandest fireworks and the storm of blood was gone. The city was still as if the torrent of blood had never been there in the first place. Breathing heavily and nearly at his boiling point, Jareth lowered his arm slowly. A dripping noise invaded his fury and his gaze fell to the stone floor and he watched as the dark red dripped from his fingertips. It was only then that Jareth raced to the nearest vase and vomited. Furious at himself and the mad queen, he moved straight to his liquor cabinet, ignoring the fact that his blood was staining both the armoire and the 1,200 year-old gypsy woven rug under his feet and poured himself a three- no, four-fingered glass of his best cognac. Ignoring the need for ice, he tilted his head back and finished the glass in three long swallows. He poured another finger and used it to swish the vile taste of bile from his mouth.

It was only then that he remembered Abby and he looked about the tower for her, but there was no sign of the elf, save her bloody apron on the floor. When he found Abby, she was in his personal bath, scrubbing her hands at the ornate fountain that served as his sink. Her hands were already cleansed of the blood, but bright red and nearly bleeding themselves as hard as she was scrubbing them. She was muttering, rapidly under her breath and he couldn’t hear her until her was nearly on top of her.

“Unclean, unclean, unclean, unclean…”

“Abby.”

She startled a little at his voice and drew a ragged breath, but she wouldn’t look at him as she continued to scrub. “She thinks these little games are funny, I suppose?”

“Abby.”

“Well, someone ought to tell her something, by Joan!”

“Abby.” Jareth resisted the urge to reach out to stop her still manic hands.

“… I swear I never seen such a gross misuse of magic an-“

“Abby!” He nearly choked. “Stop. You’ll hurt yourself.”

His tone made her stop and look down at her nearly raw hands with bewilderment. Slowly, her eyes made their way up and to look at him. They were frightened eyes that stared back at him. She took a ragged breath and gave her head a small shake. “For a moment, I thought your throat had been slit.”

“I’m fine.”

“It was _his_ wasn’t it? Jaron’s?” She didn’t even need to see his nod to know the truth. She shook her head, sadly. “Once, when he was a wee lad, an’ we was havin’ a bit o’ a holiday in Allerleirauh, Master Jaron fell out of a tree and cracked open his skull. It was a nasty hit an’ I’m sure he still has the scar to this day. I gathered him in me apron and rushed inside. It took thirteen stitches to close it, an’ I couldn’t bear to even think o’ doin’ ‘im another for luck, screaming as he was. It took three o’ us women to hold ‘im down, and an entire chocolate cake to silence his tears. Most there towards the end were for show, but he caterwauled just the same. The worst was all the blood. It was in his hair, all over his clothes, and me apron. I made your step-da burn that apron that very afternoon, because I couldn’t stand the sight o’ it. I swore to myself, I’d never see his blood again. ‘Course boys bein’ boys, he took many a tumble on my watch, but nothing was as bad as that first time.”

She shook her head somberly. “When I saw ya an’ I thought yer throat was cut, my mind flew back to that day… I-I… I was trying to gather ya in my apron like I did with wee Jaron.”  
“Abionah Leafbringer, I pity the children that are unable to be under your wing in their formative years.” Jareth replied, somberly. “You are truly a wonderful woman and any child could only dream for you as a nanny.”

She snorted. “Then get busy making some grand-children for me an’ yer mum to spoil rotten.” Jareth burst into laughter as she moved to leave the room. “If you think I’m cleaning out that vase, you’re barking mad. Now get yourself cleaned up an’ I’ll pour us a hot cup of tea.”

With a snap of his fingers, Jareth cleansed the blood from his body and followed her into his tower room. By now, the trows and gnomes living in his staircase had cleansed the room of blood and disposed of the apron. Abby was pouring the tea, but Jareth stopped her gently.

“I’m afraid I have no time for tea, Abby dear. It’s time to begin the process of returning my brother home. No matter the cost.”

There was barely a whisper on the wind and he was gone, leaving the elf to her tea. He flew and Jareth landed at the entrance to the ruins of the Forest Gardens of Allerleirauh, white feathers acknowledging his arrival. Thick ivy and vining jasmine covered the walls of the gardens. Wyntr was there, lounged on a stone bench and fiddling with one of her tick-tock creatures. She raised one eyebrow when he arrived and tightened a screw.

“’Bout time we done this, Jareth. This means someone’ll be going after him from Mab, then?” Wyntr rose and stretched her lithe frame. “Morgan said the lad ain’t been right since she trapped him in his bird form for so long. Swears it made him a bit funny in the head.”

“Yes, and hopefully soon.” Jareth produced Jaron’s medallion from one of his pockets. “But first we must find his magic.”

“Oh, he’ll be somewhere in there.” Wyntr threw one hand, dismissively towards the entrance to the garden as she blew dust from the cogs of her creature. “I’ve seen him there playin’ enough. Runnin’ and dancin’, hide and seekin’ with the fairies, you know… His thing…”

“Yes, I’ve been privy to his magic frolicking about here like a ghost.” Jareth studied the gardens. The blooming jasmine covering the ruins was alive with the lights of fairies and sprites, enjoying the cool summer night dew. He took a deep breath. “I will have to catch him, won’t I?”

“Sure enough.” Wyntr spat to her left and warned pointing at Jareth. “He’ll be fast and _afraid_, Jareth. He’ll try to trick you if he can. He’ll tell ya things you’d wish for. Try to make ya promises.”

“I believe that I am more than an adequate match for a child, Wyntr.”

“Except that magic runnin’ there ain’t a child… It may keep a child-like form, but it is no mere babe. It’s older than you know.”

“I’ll catch it… For Jaron’s sake.”

“Meh! Only if he’ll let ya! Your brother walks here too ya know… In his dreams…”

` Jareth was taken aback. “But with no magic it’s impossible for him to trans-“

“Improbable? Yes. Impossible. No! Your brother was blessed with magic, both immortal and mortal… Oberon stripped his immortal magic… He can’t even begin to touch that which Jorall passed down to him in his blood.” Wyntr tightened a screw on the tick-tock being and sighed. “Not that odd _mortal_ magic. I’ll never begin to understand mortal magic, but I believe that is what makes him walk here in his dreams.”

“Curioser and curioser…” Jareth murmured and held up the medallion. “I will collect the magic with this.”

Wyntr gave the amulet a satisfactory nod. “It’ll do the best for the job I reckon. The magic will recognize it as his. Good luck, Jareth.” 

Jareth gave a curt nod and stepped into the gardens. Ruins of walls were everywhere and overgrown with sweet jasmine. The gardens had gone wild since Allerleirauh’s death and had turned into a forest unto itself. Carefully making his way through overgrown vines, the Goblin King kept his eyes open for any sign of the child that was his brother’s magic. Then, there ahead of him, was the Child Jaron, perched in the fork of a blooming cherry tree. The young prince’s mouth was stained blue with berry juice and he wore only a pair of patched pants. He watched Jareth approach with steady eyes and tensed in his perch.

“Who are you? Why have you come?” Child Jaron asked, fearful.  
“I-“

“Have you come to play? To hide and seek with me?” Child Jaron’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward in the tree, eagerly.

“I was thinking tag-you’re-it, myself.” Jareth replied, approaching slow, hoping not to startle him.

Instead of fleeing, the child’s grin widened and he jumped from the tree, landing with a dull thud on the moss, balancing on the balls of his bare feet. Jareth was unsurprised to see leaves and trigs decorating his brow like a forest crown. The child sprang at him, tapping his fingertips on his arm and dodged away with a ringing laugh.

“_Tag-yer-it_!” He cried out in glee and raced off down the path, scattering the glowing fairies in his wake.

Jareth sprang into action, running after the child-figure. Undergrowth slapped him in the face and he leapt small logs and rocks in his chase. He cursed as a thorn scratched his cheek, drawing a thin line of crimson in its wake. Ahead he could see Child Jaron, bounding and leaping, and as graceful as the Golden Hind. His laughter echoed throughout the gardens and all around fairies tittered in answer to his glee. Jareth grunted as he nearly tripped over an upturned root and cursed when he lost sight of his quarry. He stopped, his breath coming in short pants as he scanned his surroundings for Jaron. A branch snapped to his left and he whirled about, seeing no sign of the child. A giggle came from his right and Jareth spun again.

He was there, sitting on a fallen log and swinging his legs, merrily. “You are really rather wretched at this game.”

Jareth lunged for him and the child rolled backwards from the log, evading his grasp and managing to roll, gracefully, to his feet. Jareth doubled over the log, nearly knocking the wind from him self as his midsection slammed into the wood. He grunted in pain and Child Jaron giggled. Jareth’s eyes narrowed and he took off to his left into the underbrush. The child’s giggling ceased and his eyes narrowed as he lost sight of his pursuer. He sprang off into the brush, looking left and right for Jareth. He nearly ran into a tree when Jareth sprang from one side and Child Jaron dodged his long fingers. Stumbling into the tree, Jareth quickly righted himself and lunged for the child again.

With a burst of speed, the child figure raced away, dodging small trees left and right. He ran as hard as his short legs could carry him, leaping and weaving through the gardens. He burst from the wood into a small clearing that hosted a vine covered statue of the late Forest Queen in its center. The child paused and looked behind, relieved to find that he had again lost Jareth. He grinned, triumphantly and sauntered towards the statue. He would perch here and draw the Fae in again to taunt him.

A strong hand clamped around his upper arm and his eyes widened when he realized it was Jareth, holding him.

“Tag.”

Child Jaron frowned and tried to jerk away. “You cheated! Lemme go!”

“I did no such thing. Now, come along. It’s time.”

“No! I don’t want to go back! I want to stay here at Aunt Allie’s!” The child tried to pull away, but Jareth held firm. “I don’t want to!”

“It’s time. Come.”

“No! You always ruin everything!” Child Jaron ceased his struggles and narrowed his angry eyes on Jareth. “He’ll not be the same you know. Not after this. There will be darkness in him, Jareth. He has not ever been a dark creature. He will hurt as he has been hurt. You know this.”

“I will not let him.” Jareth’s words were short. “He must come home.”

“Could you live with blood on your hands, Goblin King? A waste of such magnificent magic? Free me and let your brother go into the darkness and be free of his misery. I will not wane and in time I will bind myself to another new life as all magic does… Perhaps it will be your first born son with lovely Sarah?”

Jareth paused, his grip loosened slightly as the words sank in. “A son?”

“It is what I forsee, if you free me now.” The child’s voice was a near whisper. “Do not let me die with him… Let me return and be what you want me to be. Your devoted and loving son with your doting and kind Queen. I will have her eyes, you know…”

“Our son?” Jareth’s voice was cracked and the weight of such a decision loomed dark in his mind.

“Yes, but only if you free me and give up this hopeless quest…”

“No. I will not.” Jareth replied firmly.

“Then you are a fool, brother.” Child Jaron replied somberly.

Jareth’s grip suddenly tightened again and his mind cleared. He knew what he must do. He let go of the child and held his arms out, peacefully.

“You don’t have to be so afraid, Jaron.”

The child did not run again, but instead looked over the Goblin King with wary eyes. “I am not afraid for me. I fear for everyone else. I am broken.”

“I don’t care. I want you to come home.”

The child launched himself into Jareth’s and memories of when Jaron was a mere babe, assaulted his senses. As he had in the past, he gathered his younger brother into his arms, hugging him close. The child was the first to lean back from the embrace and gave the Goblin King a somber smile. Taking the amulet from Jareth, the child put it on willingly. Immediately he dissolved into the air and the amulet fell to Jareth’s feet. When he picked it up, he could feel the change in the small object. It now hummed with magical energy.

“Well done, Jareth.” Wyntr came to his side to admire the amulet. “I had thought it would take you much longer.”

“Well, I am very glad that you have such faith in my abilities.” Jareth replied, dryly.

Suddenly, the pair paused in very acute awareness that the entire garden around them was silent. Gone were the chatters of the fairies and the sweet calls of the nightingales. The wood was dead quiet all around them and even the glows of the fairies had dimmed into dark. The pair looked around wildly, unsure of what was happening when the first of the fairies began to vocalize. The soft and tiny voice crooned a soft tune and soon others began to join in. It was then they heard a soft voice, singing on the wind.

“_I'll sing you this October song,_

_For there is no song before it._

_The words and tune are none of my own,_

_For my joys and sorrows bore it._

_Beside the sea of brambly briars_

_In the still of evening_

_The birds fly out behind the sun_

_And with them I'll be leaving..._”

“_The fallen leaves that chill the ground,_

_They know the art of dying,_

_And leap with joy their dead gold hearts_

_In the scarlet shadows lying._

_When hunger calls my footsteps home_

_The morning follows after_

_I swim the seas within my mind_

_And the pine trees laugh green laughter…”_

A glow of fairies started on the path to their right, illuminating the way for the bearer of the voice, humming along with the old lullaby. The pair’s eyes widened as the singer approached, yards and yards of white silk flowing about her body like water. Her dark hair hung wild and free around her shoulders and a gold diadem kept it from her silver eyes. It was Alyx, but not the same girl Jareth had remembered. She was Fae and the wild magic rolled from her in great waves. Her bare feet barely made a sound on the stones as she slowly walked into the meadow, all the while singing the haunting lullaby. Wyntr had frozen beside him, astonished at the girl’s presence. As she neared, Jareth realized that she seemed _thin_. Almost translucent. As if she was a shade or a mere ghost haunting this glen. That’s when he realized what magic was before him. She was dream walking here. Alyx moved to sit at the nearby fountain, but it was as if she could not see them. She trailed her fingers in the sparkling water, the movement barely making a ripple. Jareth moved forward towards his former ward, but Wyntr grabbed his upper arm stopping him in his tracks.

“No! He comes.” Wyntr hissed and began to drag Jareth’s protesting form towards the tree line.

“Who-“

Before Jareth could get the words out, he saw another wraith-like figure enter the glen. It was his brother. He too was little more than a ghost and dressed in white. Without even a word, he took Alyx into his arms and they began to dance beside the fountain. Her voice remained strong and clear.

“_I used to search for happiness_

_And I used to follow pleasure_

_But I found a door behind my mind_

_And that's the greatest treasure._

_For rulers like to lay down laws,_

_And rebels like to break them,_

_And poor priests like to walk in chains_

_And god likes to forsake them._”

“_I met a man whose name was time_

_He said I must be going_

_But just how long ago that was_

_I have no way of knowing._

_Sometimes I long to murder time,_

_Sometimes when my hearts aching,_

_But mostly I just stroll along,_

_The path that he is taking…_”

By then, the fairies had taken up the lullaby and their sweet voices rose into a beautiful crescendo that overtook the glen.

Jareth looked down to the amulet. “How can he still walk here?”

Wyntr hissed back at him. “I told ya that mortal magic is odd. Come. Let them have their dreams. We’ve other work to do if we are to bring him home.”

Delectably, Jareth let the witch pull him back into the tree line and away from the dancing wraith-like lovers. Once the pair left the glen, the dancing spirits faded away into the night and slowly the fairies song quieted to a mere murmur. Then the whispers began and news began to spread across the wood of the return of a prince.

* * *

Far away onboard the Merrow Wind, Alyx awoke from her dreams, hot tears still fresh on her cheeks. Her shaking hands raised to brush them away as she drew ragged and uneven breaths. Sitting up in the bed, she hugged her knees to her chest and cried. She couldn’t remember her dream, but she knew what was coming.

It was time. There were dark days coming. People could die on this quest. She could die and she would, if only to save him. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked out her small porthole over the moonlit sea and pondered the future.

* * *

Even farther away, Jaron awoke alone in the dark dank of his cell, gasping and clutching at his chest for the medallion that he left in the gardens. He looked about warily in the dark, scrambling to a crouching position, his back against the wall.

It was time.

Soon.

They were coming for him.

* * *

Rowan Amarantha had never been a patient woman and all these years of diplomatic relations to negotiate her cousin’s freedom had her nearly bursting at the seams. So she acted in a manner that she thought was best.

Without the Seelie Court’s knowledge or approval. 

Word spread through out the lands that a rich courtier was in search of men with special kidnapping talents and could inquire within the Blue Hag in Merial.

* * *

Several weeks later, Alyx tried not to wince as she drew the needle through the wound before her. Elroi the Gambler had been lucky. The cut was deep and nearly to his thigh bone, but the axe had narrowly missed its mark, or else she would have been cauterizing a stump. The elf groaned in pain at each pull of the mule hair that she used for sutures.

“Oy, quit yer belly achin’.” Alyx “’Tis only a flesh wound.”

“I’d thank you to do more stitching and less criticizing.” Elroi groaned and took a large swallow from the bottle of whiskey before him. “You’re not the one that had an axe in your thigh within the last hour.”

“Nah, but I am the one who’ll be bearin’ a nice shiner for me efforts in stopping that ax from slittin’ yer throat.” Alyx retorted and gave the needle an extra tug to remind the elf. He grimaced and nodded.

“Aye, I remember.”

She tied off the knot and sat back to admire her stitching. “Damn fine needle work there bucko, If I do say so me self. That’ll be two gold bits.”

Elroi snorted as he dug in his pockets. “Highway robbery is what this is, by Joan…”

“At least you’ll live, Elroi, but I think ya be needin’ to be a bit more careful ‘bout who ya get into a bar brawl with.” Alyx smirked under her muffler at the elf, a twinkle in her silver eyes as she took the coins he offered. “I’m not always gonna be ‘round to stitch ya back together, mate.”

“Ah, but many thanks when you do friend.” Elroi looked around the bar they were in and smiled. “Boy, did I at least do a number on the place, or what?”

They were in a rundown bar called the Cursed Cauldron in Shade’s Coast. Morven had docked the ship for a few nights while he rustled up some exotic goods, and the crew had met up with their old friend Elroi in the bar. After a few too many drinks, Elroi had seen it as imperative to cause a ruckus with an orc, who happened to have an axe. The bar brawl had left the dive bar in near shambles, but the old salt running the place had little care as long as they were buying ale. Once the orc had been dealt with, the party returned to full swing. While Alyx had stitched him up, Morven, Krollin, and Quigli had started a game of cards in one corner.

“Well, I be ready for a bit o’ grog after that mess.” Alyx admitted. “I be feelin’ like I could out drink Quigli after this fiasco.”

“There’s no way ya could out drink a dwarf! No way!” Morven guffawed and waved one hand, dismissively and drunkenly, while he studied his cards. “It’s practically and physically impossible.”

Alyx frowned. “Care to put yer gold where your mouth is, Squall?”

Elroi let out a laugh. “Yes, bets in, mates! My money’s on the elf!”

Morven gave Alyx a smirk. “All right. I’ll bet me best bottle of blackberry brandy, sixty gold pieces, and that jeweled dagger we found in that old boggart cave last week that ya can’t out drink Quigli.”

“I’ll take that bet. I’ll wager me best pipe, three ruby rings, and that twitchy wand we found on Teardrop Island.” Alyx slapped his hand and whistled for the bartender. “Oy, a round of shots here, mate!”

Two hours and one spectacular shot glass tower later, Alyx and Quigli were still neck and neck for drinks, but both were quite unsteady in their seats. Alyx clamped her pipe between her faux scared lips and watched Quigli eye the full shot glass before him, wearily.

“Ain’t gonna drink isself, matey. “ Alyx drawled, her voice a little slurred. She closed one eye to focus on him as she raised her full shot glass in toast. “Let’s see what ya got, Quigs.”

Quigli brought up his shot and they toasted. Before the brew met his lips, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and the dwarf passed out, falling backwards from his chair in the process. His deep snores rolled up from the floor as Alyx slammed her last shot. Elroi whooped in delight, collecting his winnings from many spectators as Alyx flashed Morven a triumphant smirk.

“See. I told ya… Ya owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yer amazin’. Morven muttered, grumpy at his loss. He shoved another glass into her hand. “Now, c’mon… We’ve got business to attend to.”

Alyx groaned. “You always do this! Ya get me drunk so I’ll agree to any hair-brained job you come across.”

“I do not. I’ve used this ruse a handful of times at the most.” Morven argued as they made their way to the bar. “Now shut yer trap an’ keep yer ears open. I gotta talk to the bartender ‘bout work ‘round these parts to make up for me losses tonight.”

Alyx, a little unsteady on her feet, followed Morven up to the bar and waited while the pirate questioned the old man. Though, inebriated, she instantly sobered up when the haggard old salt leaned over the bar to look at Morven with his good eye and nodded.

“Oh, Aye… I hear tell there is work to be had in Merial fer anyone willin’.” He looked about to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. “High payin’ work.”

“Merial?” Morven frowned and noticed Alyx flinch beside him. “The home of the Seelie Court? They’ll not be likin’ pirates in their town.”

“Yer not just a pirate, Squall! Yer also a merchant! Sell yerself some spices to them rich fools and see ‘bout this job.” The bartender advised.

“What exactly is the job?” Alyx asked.

He chuckled, “Oh, somethin’ yer good at, Aneurin… Kidnappin’…”

“Oh, bloody hell…” Alyx’s eyebrow cocked and she sighed. “I kidnap _one_ elf an’ I never hear the end of it…”

“I like to think of it as a ‘surprise adoption’, myself.” Morven remarked, mildly.

The bartender laughed, merrily. “Go to the Blue Hag in Merial, Squall. That’s where the clients wait for someone to take on their job. I hear they’re offering gold and lots of it.”

Morven nodded and thanked the bartender, who moved on to pour more ale. The pirate captain turned to Alyx with a knowing look. “Ya flinched.”

Alyx looked at him, blankly, and hiccupped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“When that bartender said there be work in Merial… Ya flinched. We won’t go if yer worried-“

“There’ll be no problems. Let’s take the job if we can.” Alyx replied, quickly.

“What happened in Merial, Alyx?” Morven asked, lowering his voice. “I’ve known ya nigh on seven years and ya still ‘aven’t told me why I found ya hidin’ out on me ship in the first place. Are ya from Merial?”

“Shh.” Alyx hissed and looked around, worriedly. “Keep quiet! My secrets are my own.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Morven waved his hand at her. “Go an’ help Krollin collect Quigli. We be headin’ to Merial to see ‘bout this job.”

* * *

_And that is how you sing a fairytale of seven years…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song in this chapter is "October song" by Robin Williamson and originally recorded by The Incredible String Band


End file.
